


Blown Off Course

by TinyUmbrellas



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Battle of Hogwarts, Diagon Alley, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family, HP: EWE, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Hogwarts, Repair, Romance, Smut, The Burrow, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2020-07-24 21:48:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 39,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20021566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinyUmbrellas/pseuds/TinyUmbrellas
Summary: After the war, Hermione takes shelter at The Burrow. One night she and George Weasley form a strong bond, and they find themselves living in the flat above Weasley's Wizard Wheezes together. Can two such different people find a middle ground, or maybe even more? What happens when grief turns into love? (Can be read as a sequel to Happy Accidents)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to comment if you enjoyed this chapter! Part two will be coming very soon, and I can’t wait to see you all again! Thank you! 💕

It had been two months since the war had ended, and the people who had fought in the Battle of Hogwarts were just beginning to pick up the pieces of the life they had once lived. So many people that they had loved had been taken from them in swift and unforgiving blows. Fred Weasley, along with Dobby, Colin Creavy, Lavender Brown, Tonks, and Professor Lupin were amongst the fallen, though the number of deaths ranged closer to fifty. Each day the losses of their friends seemed to become heavier and heavier as the realization that they were gone sunk in. Most of those who survived were sporting wounds of various degrees of severity. Oliver Wood, the handsome Keeper of the Puddlemere United quidditch team had a nasty burn on his left leg, and Dean Thomas was missing the tip of his right pinky from an explosion caused by his good friend Seamus Finnigan. Even with the blood loss, not even the worst of the pain could hold a flame against the agony of George and the rest of the Weasley family, who were all missing much more than limbs. 

George felt like part of him had died, and to be fair… it had. His stomach was made of lead and his legs felt as heavy as Mad-eye Moody’s metal prosthetic one. He had almost forgotten what it felt like to be alive as he sat outside on the roof of the newly rebuilt Burrow over the room that had belonged to him and Fred. He had taken to sitting there as an escape. Something about it made him feel more connected to his twin, and often he found himself talking aloud to Fred and telling him what he was missing back home. He wasn’t the only one sulking in solitude, however. Hermione Granger was just as distraught, and in need of a place to collect her thoughts. Often, she would borrow one of the Weasley’s old Cleansweep brooms, and fly in lazy circles around the Burrow. She wasn't skilled at flying like the others, but the fresh air was calming, and the solitude allowed her to have some well-deserved privacy. 

One night, Hermionie was making her way around the Burrow when it began to rain. The wind picked up and rushed around the house as a storm blew into the small town of  Ottery St Catchpole. Hermione wasn’t as accustomed to flying in harsh weather as Harry and Ron were, and she found herself losing control of her broom. As she tried to turn back towards the entrance of the Burrow, the wind caught her broom at an angle. She screamed as her broom jerked up and down much like Harry’s had during his first-ever  quidditch match against Slytherin. 

The rain began to fall in a torrential downpour, drenching Hermione in freezing water and soaking her hair and clothes. A loud clap of thunder shook the grounds, and she found it even more difficult to hang on to her broom. “HELP!” She screamed, desperately trying to regain some control of the situation. Lightning ripped across the sky as she heard a distant shout, and felt herself speeding through the air, and through an open window. She collided with a tall warm body, that fell back onto the floor, dragging her down with it. 

Hermione groaned and pushed herself up onto her hands to look at her savior beneath her, and found herself face to face with George Weasley. “What do you think you’re doing out there Granger. Are you trying to kill yourself?” Her wet hair dripped onto his face and she squeaked and scrambled off of his chest and to her feet before he had the chance to move.

“Thank you, George, I.. I…” and with that, she collapsed back onto her knees, and began to cry. Hermione hadn’t let herself properly cry for months, and now that the tears had started, they wouldn't stop. She had lost nearly everything. She couldn’t return to her parents, not yet anyway… and Ron and Harry had both returned to help repair the damage at Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. She felt utterly alone, and to blame for the deaths of her friends. If she had only been at the right place at the right time, she could have saved Lupin and Tonks. She knew that it wasn’t her fault that Fred had died in the explosion, and she knew that Lavender had died far before she found her lifeless body with Greyback. Even if she didn’t particularly like the girl, she still was hurt by the loss. Hermione cried and cried while blubbering on the floor. 

“Hey, come on now Granger. Come here.” George had lifted himself into a sitting position and scooted over to sit next to her. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest. “It’s okay. It’s okay, I miss them too.” She clung to him, her wet clothes soaking through his shirt. Hermionie cried for what felt like forever, staining George’s sweater with mascara. 

“I’m sor… sorry.” She sputtered, pulling away from George. He had tears of his own quietly rolling down his cheeks. “George?” She reached out to touch his face, cupping it with her hand. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. Putting his hand over hers. “He’s still here, you know that don’t you?” He remained silent, but she knew that he was listening all the same. 

George stood carefully and extended his hand down to Hermione. “Come on Granger, let's get you outta those wet clothes. You’ll catch a cold.” He hoisted her up, but before he could do much more, Hermione threw herself into his arms. “Oi, you okay?” 

“Just let me hug you.” Her words were muffled, but warm and kind. George smiled slightly and wrapped his arms around her, feeling the cold water seeping even deeper into his shirt and chilling his skin. It was the first time in what felt like eons that either one of them had felt a twinge of joy. 

“Granger, we’re both soaking wet. Honestly, let’s get you dry.” He pushed her away and reached to unzip her sweater and pushed it off of her slender shoulders, leaving a sodden T-shirt underneath. “Here, let me get you something dry. I’ll turn my back, and you get undressed.” Hermione was slow and meticulous as she peeled off her dripping clothing and dropped into a heap on the floor. “I’m ready now” She sat down on his bed wearing nothing but her panties, and brought her feet up to rest on the blankets, and rested her chin on her knees. Normally, she’d be uncomfortable being almost naked in front of a boy, but she felt strangely at ease.

“Thank you very much, George.” She said, wrapping her arms around her legs.

“For what, Granger?” 

“For saving me from the storm. Using Accio on the broom was quite clever.” Though she could not see his face as he rummaged through the set of drawers, he smiled and his ears turned pink, clashing horribly with his hair. 

“Here’s something clean and dry,” he turned to face her, holding a large faded Chudley Cannons T-shirt. “Réchauffer!” George pointed his wand at the shirt, and as she took it from his hands, Hermione noticed that It was warm and fluffy just like clothes when they come out of the dryer. Hermione pulled the shirt down over her head and watched as George turned back to the dresser and pulled his own sweater over his head, and flung it into a corner, exposing his bare skin. 

Hermione quickly diverted her eyes as she remembered seeing George on the couch in the common room snogging a fellow Gryffindor girl several years ago. He had been cuddled up on the red sofa in front of the fire with Leah Hart. His shirt open and tie loosened, as the girl pulled him closer to her. Hermione gulped and shook the memory from her head. For the second time in her life, she wondered what it would be like to touch his skin like Leah did. Briefly, she imagined herself running her fingers along the veins of his arms and the curvature of his spine. With all of the things, she had seen and done in her young life, squirming over a shirtless Weasley was the last thing she ever thought would break her. 

As he pulled a fresh sweater over his head, George turned back to her, ready to speak but as soon as Hermione saw what he was wearing, her face fell. “Why the long face Hermi…” He looked down at his shirt and exhaled. “Shit.” The eggplant-colored sweater was embroidered with a large letter F. Before she could stop herself, Hermionie launched herself off the bed and wrapped her arms around George. She pulled him close to her and squeezed as hard as she could. 

“It’s okay.” She repeated the words over and over again in a soothing voice, even though he didn’t say anything in response. George held Hermione close to him, letting his hands run through her damp hair. Without thinking, Hermione tugged at his shirt, pulling his sweater up and over his head. “Let’s get you out of this, there are other shirts.” 

She dropped the sweater on the floor and looked up at George. There were freckles splattered over George’s chest and stomach, and he had several tiny blue burns on his ribs that looked as if they could have been from one of his very own creations. “I think I’ll just stay like this if you don’t mind.” He said, smiling weakly. 

Hermione grabbed the shirtless boy’s hand and pulled him over to his bed. 

“Here, let's just sit. Okay?” She pulled him down to sit next to her and took his hand in both of hers. “I was wondering if you could tell me more about some of your products. Like the Canary Creams.” She squeezed his hand.

“Yeah? You want to turn Ginny into a canary?” He smiled arching his eyebrow and pulled his hand away to scratch at the place his ear had been. “Maybe Ron even. He deserves it, for just leaving you hanging and messing you about.” 

“What are you talking about?” Hermione looked confused. “ He didn’t mess me about. I told him that while I do love him, my heart wasn’t in it. NOT that I  _ love  _ him or any… I love all of you… I..” She stopped short as George laughed at her. “You don’t have to explain yourself, Granger. If you want to turn someone into a canary I can help you do that.”

“No! I was wondering if you could turn people into other animals, or is there a special jellybean to give the taster purple hair, or something?” 

“Why would you want purple hair? You look lovely just the way you are.” He smiled as he reached out and touched her hair. “Besides, we all know that red is the superior color here.” He made a hair-flipping motion with his other hand and laughed. 

“I was just thinking that I would like to try some of your products. I mean I’ve never had any have I? And who better to teach me about them than the creator? Did you also make some kind of love potion? What all have you made for the store?” 

“You don't need a love potion, or any kind of glamour Granger, trust me.” George flopped back on his bed and put his hands behind his head. “Why the sudden interest in Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, huh?” 

Hermione looked down at him and blushed. George had a surprisingly lean and muscular body, which Hermione supposed he got from playing quidditch every week. Quickly, she averted her gaze to the ceiling. “I just want to distract you I suppose. Besides, I like hearing you talk about things that make you happy. You really are-” Hermione trailed off as she looked at the mysterious brightly colored stains above their heads. “I just… I miss the life we had. It’s not like I enjoyed running in fear of Voldemort, but at least things were somewhat normal. At least… at least we were happy and alive.” She fell silent as remembered Fred, along with the rest of their friend lined up like fallen dominos on the floor of the Great Hall. What if had been different though? What if it had been George Weasley’s body lifeless and cold, broken and unmoving? What if it had been her in the jaws of Fenrir Greyback? She felt the sting of tears in her eyes. “Well, thank you for everything. I should probably go to bed. I know Ginny wanted to wake up early and get first dibs on breakfast.” 

George sat up, and put his hand on her leg, “You could sleep here if you wanted. We could talk about the good old times. He’d like that.” Though George didn’t mention any names, Hermione knew that he was talking about Fred. 

“Okay, I suppose I could stay. Do you mind if I get under the covers, it’s a little chilly in here.” She drew her arms into the orange shirt and shivered. Her hair was now dry, but there was a cold that was far too chilling to be coming from the crack in the window that had long since been closed. George pulled down the blankets and motioned for her to climb in. As she did, he put out the lights, and Hermione could feel George climb into bed next to her. She turned to face the window. Though it was dark save for the faint moonlight filtering through the glass, she didn’t want him to know that she had tears in her eyes again. 

“I don't bite, Granger. You don’t have to be all of the way over there on the edge. Come here, my little Canary.” George chuckled and pulled her closer to him, wrapping his arms around her. “I know you’re crying again. You honestly don’t have to hide. Not from me.” Hermione stirred, and turned to face the boy behind her. “Now, tell me why you're crying,” George said softly.

“You're going to have to be more specific, I’ve been crying all night.” She feigned a laugh. “Which time are you referring to?” She smiled in spite of herself. Being here in George’s arms was nice. Nicer than she could have ever imagined, and she couldn't help but feel warm and safe. 

“It’s not all bad, sis. You’re alive, and in bed with the world’s most handsome twin. What more could you ask for? Other than purple hair, and some of our top-shelf Wheezes?” George cupped her cheek in his hand, using his thumb to wipe the tears from her cheek. 

Hermione smiled. “I just can’t help but be sad. I lost so many people that I love, and I even missed my 18th birthday this year. I miss my parents, and I can’t stop thinking…”

“Yes?” his voice was soothing. “What are you thinking in that brilliant bushy head of yours?” 

“I just can’t stop picturing you lying on the floor next to the others… I don’t know. It just makes me quite sad.” Hermione reached out in the dark and touched the side of his face. She let her fingers trace the outline of his scar. “You really are holey aren't you, George?” And with that she allowed herself to drift off to sleep. 

  * ••



Hermione awoke to a cold and empty bed. The house was quiet, and rightly so judging by the small analog clock on the wall. It was nearly three in the morning. She turned over in bed to see George standing at the window, still shirtless with his pajama pants hanging low on his narrow hips. “What are you doing up? Are you alright?” Hermione rubbed her eyes and swung her feet over the edge of the bed to join George by the window. 

George didn’t answer her at first, he just continued to stare out the window as though he was waiting for something. She walked over to him and squeezed his forearm gently. He turned to look at her. “There’s nothing out there George. Let’s go back to bed, it’s very late.” She did her best to stifle a yawn. 

“I guess- I guess I’m just waiting for him to come home. I’m waiting on them all to just walk out of the field like they always did. Like the war never happened or something.” George turned to her and yawned, rubbing his face with his palms. He looked at Hermione through his fingers. “You’re right though. Let’s go back to bed, aye?” He clapped a hand down on her shoulder and looked into her shiny, tired eyes. “Not crying again are we?” He chuckled. 

“No, I most certainly am not.” Hermione swatted his hand away and turned back to the bed. George reached out and grabbed her shoulder, pulling her back to him. He ran his hand along her shoulder and let it come to rest on the side of her neck, tilting her head back slightly. 

“Wait a second Granger, not so fast.” With his other hand, George cupped her face and stroked her cheek with his thumb. “You’re beautiful, you know that?” A shy smile crept across his face and he leaned down stopping only centimeters away from her face. Slowly, George closed the space between them and pressed his lips against hers. Hermione’s eyes fluttered shut and she wrapped her arms around his neck. The kiss started slowly, and Geroge opened his mouth slightly to let his tongue dance against her lips. She gasped and met George’s tongue with her own. They hobbled back to the bed, and Hermione lowered herself onto the mattress and lay back, pulling down George on top of her, careful not to break their tender kiss.

They lay together pulling the quilt over their bodies, and George sunk between her legs as she brought her knees up around his hips. She smiled into the kiss and squeezed him close to her. Hermione nibbled his bottom lip and sucked it into her mouth, letting it go with a small  _ pop  _ causing him to moan softly. He was so warm, and his skin was smooth against her. She ran her hands up George’s back, letting her fingers explore his bare skin. She was suddenly very aware of what he felt like between her thighs and tried to ignore the dampness that she could feel in her knickers.

Their breathing was heavy as George ran a hand up her thigh and then slipped it under her bum, and tangled the other in her hair. She arched her spine as he tilted her head back, allowing him to kiss her more deeply. Hermione gasped and moaned a little more loudly than she meant to when she felt his cock pressing against her, and bucked her hips up involuntarily to grind against him. The sensation sent shivers through her body, and Hermione couldn’t help but moan softly. She dug her nails into his back, and rolled her hips up several more times, as his tongue explored hers in a fiery tango. Suddenly, George broke the kiss and looked down at the squirming girl beneath him. 

“Blimey Granger, what’s gotten into you? Not that I’m complaining.” He propped himself up on his elbows, letting himself sink into her body. “I like this. I like  _ you.  _ I like you a lot, and I just don’t want you to feel like you have to do this because you pity me or something.” She ran her foot down his calf. 

“I don’t pity you, George. I don’t  _ have _ to do anything. I want this. I want you. I want you in every way.” She relaxed into his mattress, his weight was comfortable on top of her. Hermione reached up and for the second time, and caressed George’s face to touch his missing ear. “Does it hurt badly still?” She asked gently. George groaned. 

“It’s not terrible, it hurts more to look at honestly.” He rolled off of her and settled in beside Hermione, adjusting his pants which had grown very tight. “That’s the biggest part I think. It just makes me hard to look at. It’s rather ugly and macabre, don’t you think?” 

Hermione nudged his shoulder with hers and snuggled up next to him. “Well, I think you’re very handsome George. You’d be handsome even if you had goblin ears, to be quite honest.” She pressed her lips against his cheek and then ever so softly, she gently kissed the remaining shell of his ear and whispered, “How could you ever think you’re anything less than perfect?” Her breath was warm and it sent shivers down George’s spine. 

“Well Mione, I’d be lying if I said that you have bad taste.” He chuckled as he turned to face her. George kissed her forehead as he pulled her closer to him. “You sure about this?” He let his fingers trace along her neck and collarbone. Goosebumps pushed their way to the top of her pale skin. “You sure you want to feel me?” His hand was now trailing down her chest. “You want to feel me... like this.” George’s thumb ran over one of her nipples and caressed her breast through the thin fabric of the t-shirt. “I do like you, Hermione. I’m not just doing this for a shag. I want you to know that.” 

He kneaded her breast softly. “I know you’re not. I like you too, George. Ever since the Yule Ball,” She confessed, blushing a deep shade of crimson. “But yes, I’m sure.”

“Have you done this before?” George asked her, turning his body slightly towards her. “I mean… have you ever been with someone in this way?” He moved his thigh between her legs. Hermione met his gaze and smiled wickedly. 

“I’ve never had sex with a man before, no.” She slowly and deliberately rolled her hips against his muscular Beater’s thigh and shivered as a jolt of pleasure rippled throughout her body. “Why? Do you not want to be with an inexperienced swot like me?” Her voice was almost sad.

“Wait, have you… with a… is that what girls do in the dorms at night?” He looked both mischievous and intrigued. 

“I’ll never tell!” She giggled, covering her face with her hands. 

“You mean to tell me tha-” he was cut short by Hermione’s fit of giggles. “What?!” He looked at her incredulously.

“I’ve never had sex George,” She wheezed in between giggles. “I have kissed a girl before.” She had calmed herself as best she could, and looked at George a wicked grin playing on her lips.

“WHO?!” George who had previously been flicking her nipple through her shirt stopped in action and was now staring at her. 

“It’s a secret.” She said as she winked at him. She couldn’t tell him that she and Ginny would practice kissing techniques on each other, or that they cuddled, and crooned at each other most nights. It was never like this. Their kisses were sweet and gentle and full of giggle fits and smiles. Ginny would be furious and she was sure that George would be just as uneasy if she let slip that secret. Before George could protest what she had said, Hermione closed the gap between them and pressed her lips to his. He responded enthusiastically. She pulled away and began nibbling and suckling his neck and collarbone, as her fingers trailed down his chest and abdomen, and danced dangerously close to his waistband.

“I hope you never kiss anybody else like this. I want to be the only one.” George breathed. “I want to be yours. I don’t care what happens, just never stop this.”   
  


“Let’s just see how you feel in the morning.” Hermione’s words were muffled by the skin of George’s neck.

“I reckon that I’ll feel exactly like I do now, Granger.” His voice was husky and low. Suddenly George pushed Hermione back on the bed and rolled on top of her. He crashed his lips against hers and ground his erection against her soft and damp center. She brought her knees up to frame his hips, and he sank deeper against her. Hermione moaned and bit his lip. This was met with a swift thrust from George, and she could feel her black cotton knickers getting wetter by the minute. George frantically ran his hands us her sides to push the shirt up her torso and over her head. He flung it aside, and his hands ran over her skin as their tongues battled frantically. Hermione bucked her hips up into his in a steady rhythm which he gladly matched. 

When one of George’s hands found its way between her legs, she moaned and her body quivered. “Is this okay?” He asked making his way back to her lips. “Does it feel good, Mione?” He rubbed up and down the fabric, paying special attention to her sensitive clit. 

“T-take them off,” Hermione gasped. George had ducked his head and was now flicking his tongue over her nipples, 

“What? Are you sure?” He asked, looking up and just as breathless as she was.

“Y...Yes.” Hermione whimpered. George pulled the damp crotch aside and let his long slender fingers resume their strokes, before pushing softly against her quivering opening. She shuddered, and slowly George pushed his index finger into Hermione’s core. She shivered and let her head fall back, a soft moan escaping her lips. 

“Is this okay?” He asked pausing for a moment. George hooked his fingers into the waistband of her knickers and gently pulled them down her legs. After he had dropped them next to the bed, he resumed his position between her legs. “We’ll go slow, okay. I’ve done this once before, but it's your first time. I want it to be special for you.” He kissed her cheek and reached down to adjust his pants again. 

“I hope I’m not bad at it, I’d be so embarrassed.” While she had been in a somewhat intimate encounter before, it was never like this. She didn’t even know if she knew how to have sex, much less with someone like George. He was almost 21, two whole years older than she was. He was clearly somewhat experienced and all that Hermione had ever done was lock herself in an empty classroom for some adventurous groping with a blonde Slytherin boy.

“You won’t be. You’ve never been bad at anything Hermione.” He pressed his lips to her forehead. “I just want to try one thing first. It’s something nice.” With that, he began planting kisses along her jawline and down her neck. George inched down lower and lower, letting his mouth explore her nipples and tender breasts. She could feel her nipples harden, and become pointed and sensitive. She moaned slightly. 

“You are beautiful, Granger.” He said between kisses. His lips were planting a trail down her stomach and were now inching towards her hips. 

“It was Katie Bell.” She barely got the words out as she covered her mouth to keep herself from moaning too loudly.” George looked up at her. 

“Come again?” 

“It was Katie Bell. We kissed.” Which was true. She had kissed Katie once during a rather drunken match of Truth Or Dare. Several of the Gryffindor girls had all crowded around the dormitory and passed around a bottle of fire whiskey that Angelina had nicked from Hogsmeade. There were many giggles, kisses, and confessions that night. Hermione was surprised to learn that Katie and Alicia were a couple and that Fay Dunbar had once been caught snogging Gregory Goyle outside the charms classroom. 

“Ahh, you'll have to tell me more about that later. Spare no details. But for now, I’m the one doing the kissing.” Slowly, he ducked his head between her legs and kissed her quivering quim. He let his tongue trace its way up and down her slit, and George’s fingers came up to spread her lips open slightly to let his tongue explore her wet pussy. 

“George!” She gasped as his tongue flicked over her clit and snaked its way inside of her. “George, please. Her chest heaved and Hermione reached down to grab ahold of his hair. She jerked her hips up as she squired in attempt to feel more of him, to feel more of this feeling that sent waves of pleasure through her body. “Please, please. I want you. I wan-” The rest of her thoughts tumbled out as a loud moan.

“Mmmm, as you wish.” George kissed the inside of her thigh and sat back on his heels and then onto his feet next to the bed to remove his pants. He crawled back into the sheets and positioned himself between Hermione’s thighs. “Are you ready, love?” He pushed her hair out of her face and kissed her cheek before pressing his lips to hers. She whimpered and nodded. George reached down and lined himself up with her opening and gently slid into her. 

A soft ‘ _ oh’ _ fell from her lips as he pushed his length into her quim, and he began to move in a slow and steady rhythm to allow the girl to get used to the feeling of his large cock inside of her. Soon, Hermione was bucking up wildly onto George’s shaft and moaning his name. They disappeared under the covers, as the rain picked up and pelted down the windows. Neither Hermione nor George paid any attention as thunder rolled through the sky. They were lost in each other, and it was the most human that they had both felt since leaving the castle where they had nearly lost their lives.

  * ••



Soft grey light filtered through the window as morning came. Hermione stirred in the mess of blankets and scooted closer to George, who had fallen asleep with an arm thrown over her. “George?” She murmured, nuzzling his neck with her nose. “George are you awake?” She wrapped her arms around his torso and brought her knee up to rest on his hips. He stirred and kissed her head, smiling sleepily. 

“I’m here. I’m awake.” George groaned and hid his face in her hair. It was still raining, and the storm was yet to be over. “Did you sleep okay?” He opened his eyes groggily to take in the smaller witch next to him. Her hair was covering her face and the blankets were draped haphazardly over her hips, exposing much of her still naked body. She looked so peaceful and unbothered, lying in his arms. George knew that he would do whatever he had to do to keep her here with him. 

Each day since the battle had been a war of its own. The nightmares, the tears, and the guilt added up to many sleepless nights, and he, along with many of the other survivors, found themselves awake for hours after the world had gone to sleep. Even so, ever since he summoned her to him from the storm last night, George felt like maybe, just maybe, Hermione could help him heal. He would fight the war all over again if it meant healing her, even if he ended up among the fallen in the end.

She blinked the sleep from her eyes. “Yes. I slept wonderfully.” She pushed her hair out of her eyes and smiled at him. “Last night was incredible. Even if I did almost die in the storm. Thank you for saving me.”

“I’d save you from anything love.” George stretched, pulling her tightly to his chest. “Anything at all.” They could hear clanging in the kitchen down below, as Mrs. Weasley started breakfast.

“I suppose we should get dressed, shouldn't we,” Hermione said, moving to get out of bed. The was soft beneath her feet, and she slipped her knickers up over her hips and pulled on her pants, tucking George’s shirt into the waistband haphazardly. She turned back to look at him, still lying in bed. “I’ll see you downstairs, won’t I?” She smiled. 

“Yes, of course,” He said getting up and putting on his own pants. “And Hermione…” He faltered as he reached the door at the same time as she did. 

“Yes?” She turned to face him as he pulled an old ratty maroon Gryffindor shirt over his head. George pulled her into a tight embrace and tilted her chin up to look at him. 

“Will you come back tonight?” He asked running his thumb across her bottom lip. “I really quite liked waking up to you this morning. You make me feel like everything will be okay.”

Hermione blushed and stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. “I’ll come back every night if you'll have me.”

“Of course I will. Like I said last night, I want to be the one you kiss. I want you to always want me.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Positive feedback is always welcome.

George pulled his bedroom door open and quietly pushed her into the hall. “See you soon, little Canary. Sit next to me at breakfast.” He quickly kissed her forehead and winked at her, then closed the door. 

Her head was swimming. She supposed that she should go back to Ginny’s room and change her clothes. As soon as she opened the bedroom door, she came face to face with Ginny, who was getting dressed for the day. 

“Where have you been?” Her eyes narrowed. “Is that George’s shirt?” 

Hermione froze. She wasn’t expecting Ginny to be here. She thought the younger girl would be in the kitchen getting first dibs at the sausages before they were all gone. 

“Ye-yes.” She said pulling the shirt over her head and dropping in on her bed. “I spilled a spot of fire whiskey on my shirt and George lent me this. I must have fallen asleep on the couch reading last night. I’m sorry if I worried you!” Her voice was a little higher than she meant for it to be, but Ginny didn’t seem to notice. Hermione pulled on a pair of clean panties, and some soft black leggings, and then dug in in the dresser for a clean top. 

“Going braless I see. You’re so lucky. I wish I could.”

Hermione froze, arms halfway through the arms of an Aegean blue long sleeve shirt. She must have left her bra in George’s room. 

“I’m sorry,” She gasped, covering her breasts with her hands, before pulling the shirt down over her head. “Though it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” She sniggered and winked at the redhead. 

“No wrong.” Chipped Ginny. She sidled up to Hermione and smacked her butt lightly. Ginny leaned against the dresser and giggled. “I’m so jealous of your body.” She pulled up her shirt and pinched her stomach, frowning down at her pale skin. 

“Why?!” Hermione looked surprised. “Your body is perfectly lovely.” She poked Ginny hard in the ribs. “Plus your bum is much nicer than mine.” Hermione pinched Ginny’s arse. “Why can’t you go braless? Speaking of bras, are you wearing mine?” 

“Come on Mione, it's so pretty and you never wear it?” Ginny pulled her shirt back down, covering the simple and elegant olive bralette. “Plus it makes my boobs look awesome. Even Harry agrees. Hermione rolled her eyes and tried not to imagine Harry and Ginny in various states of undress.

Before either of them could say much more, there was a knock at the door, and Percy Weasley stuck his head into the room. “Sorry girls, but breakfast is nearly ready...why are you laughing?” Both Hermione and Ginny had collapsed into each other’s arms in a fit of giggles, and begun pointing at him “Do I have grey hair again? I’ve told George not to put the aging tonic in my shampoo.” Percy did indeed have a thick mess of silver hair on top of his head.

“Sorry Perce..” Ginny giggled. 

Percy stomped his left foot down. “That’s it! George?! Where are you?!” He turned heel and made his way up the stairs to George’s bedroom. Hermione and Ginny tore after Percy and followed him up a long flight of stairs. They were still giggling as they came to stand outside of the door to George’s room. “You answer me right now!” He yelled as the girls almost collided with him. 

“I’m a little busy sleeping right now, come back later.” The voice inside the room was muffled and distant. 

“I don’t care how busy you are! You wake up right now, and you put me right.” Percy yelled as he all but ripped the door off the hinges as he pushed himself into the room. Hermione and Ginny toppled in after him, catching each other before they tumbled to the floor. George was laying on top of his poorly made bed, completely naked. His eyes widened as Ginny made a gagging sound and covered her face. 

“Oy!” George yelled, frantically trying to cover himself. “Can’t a bloke have a wank in peace?!” He threw a pillow over his lap and frantically made shooing motions to the three of them. “Get out!” Hermione couldn’t help but notice the wink he gave her before turning to follow the others. 

They all threw out frantic apologies and backed out of the room. Once the door was closed, the three stood by the stairs. “I’ll just ask mother. She’ll know what to do.” And with that Percy stomped down the stairs grumbling with each step.

Hermione saw that Ginny was looking at her intensely. “What?”

“I thought I saw…” she trailed off. 

“You thought you saw what?” Hermione asked as they headed downstairs. Before Ginny could respond, the door to George’s room opened. 

•••  
Things around the table were a bit more lively this morning, as scrambled eggs, toast, and sausages were passed around, while glasses of orange juice and coffee refilled on their own after each cup was emptied. 

They were all laughing and telling jokes for the first time since returning to the Burrow. Harry and Ron had flooed in for breakfast, joined by Luna and Neville who had picked spots on either side of Ginny. Hermione had found a spot next to George just as he had asked her to earlier that morning and shivers went down her spine every time they bumped elbows. 

“Say, Percy… you’re looking rather grey today.” Ron said flicking a sausage across the table and onto his brother’s plate. Mrs. Weasley had turned Percy’s hair back to its usual fiery copper state, but several strands of silver remained in the orange mess. 

The eldest Weasley began droning on about rules and basic etiquette, and the others filtered out slowly to avoid a lecture. Percy had recently mended his relationship with his family, after nearly abandoning them to serve under the Minister of Magic. Though he had come back begging for forgiveness, he still had a great love for rules and it crept out in small bursts.

“Let’s go,” George said quietly, squeezing Hermione’s knee under the table. “I want to get away from Percy.” He stood and walked towards the door, motioning for Hermione to follow him. 

“Shouldn’t I stay and help clean up?” Hermione asked, a look of protest in her eyes. “I hardly think th-”

“Mum, do you need any help with the kitchen?” George shouted over Percy, who’s eyes narrowed as he raised his voice. Mrs. Weasley shook her head and made a shooing motion with her hands. 

“Come on!” George pulled Hermione up and ushered her back up the flight of stairs that led to his bedroom. On the way, Hermione spotted Ginny and Harry headed into her room, and was glad that she had an excuse to avoid the girl and questions that she might have about Hermione’s night. She also didn’t want to be a third wheel during Ginny’s private time with Harry. As George closed the door, Hermione could hear Ron yelling about how he wanted to get back to the castle, and about how Harry shouldn’t be snogging certain redheads behind closed doors.

“So,” George said flopping down on the bed. “Care for a morning nap, Canary?” He patted the covers next to him. The rain had picked up once again, falling hard from the grey sky as it fell over the countryside.

“Do you mind if I shower first. I’d love nothing more than to spend the whole day in bed with you, but-” 

George cut her off, “Sure thing. The loo is right down the hall. Mum just washed the towels as well.” He smiled at her and sat up in bed, settling back into the pillows. 

“I’d love to take you up on that nap though. Will you be here when I get out?” 

“I’ll wait as long as you like Mione.” She blushed as he smiled at her. 

It was so cold and dark outside at the moment that the sky may as well be filled with dementors. Hermione lathered her body with soap, as she breathed in the steam that filled the small bathroom. The chill from the storm the previous night was still heavy in her bones, and as each moment passed she could feel the ice leave her body. She ran her hands over her skin, careful to not leave anything unsoaped, and she remembered how it had felt when George had touched her. She remembered what it felt like to feel his lips against her neck, and without thinking, she slipped her hand between her thighs and massaged her clit. Hermione slumped against the tile wall. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she pressed her free hand over her mouth. 

When she finally stepped out of the shower several minutes later, she stood in front of the mirror and looked at herself properly before drying herself off and wrapping a towel around her slender body. Hermione tucked the towel in on itself to prevent it from falling and picked up her clothes. 

She exited the bathroom and tiptoed down the hall. When she entered his room, George was reclined in bed with his shirt off and was reading a book floating in front of his face. Hermione recognized the novel as one of her own that she had left in the sitting room. As soon as George heard the door close he looked at her and smiled. “There’s my girl.”He said, sitting up. “Now, how about you come over here, and we can take that nap.” He winked at her and drew down the blankets. 

Hermione walked to the bed and dropped her clothes on the sheets. “Sounds good to me.” She smiled and dropped her towel. “Let me get dressed first. It will only be a minute.” She used the towel to dry her skin quickly and then pulled her knickers on followed closely by her leggings and top. After using her wand to dry the towels and her hair, she climbed into bed next to George. 

“Have a pleasant bath?” George asked her, as he buried his nose in her hair. She smelled of bergamot and apples. 

“I did. Sorry, it took so long. I got distracted.” She murmured, taking the book hovering above them and reading the page in which he had left off.

“What, counting tiles in the shower were we?” George laughed and put his arm around her. “Strange book you have there, Mione. Whoever heard of a vampire rabbit.” 

She scoffed. “Bunnicula was always one of my favorite series as a kid. He’s cute! Plus, it reminds me of home.” She blew a strand out of hair out of her face. “And if you must know, I got distracted thinking of you.” She turned the page and blew the same strand of hair away from her face again, just to have it fall back on her nose. 

‘What is it that you were thinking about?” George brushed her hair out of her face and kissed her temple. “Hopefully it was a good distraction. I know I was definitely thinking about you being in the shower.”

“It was. Believe me…” She placed the book next to her and turned to face him. “I almost wish you had come with me.” Hermione pressed her lips to George’s, and then nuzzled up against his neck. 

“Next time I will. I’ll follow you anywhere.” He rolled to his back and grabbed the book, opening it to the beginning. “How’s about I read to you? I’ll read a chapter, and you tell me about this kiss with Katie. Sound good?” They both smiled. 

Hermione and George spent hours talking and laughing, and the book was long since forgotten. He was just as surprised as she was to hear that Fay had been snogging Goyle, but when Hermione told him about Katie and Alicia, he scoffed. 

“I’ve known about them for ages. Wood has caught them getting friendly under the stands loads of times. But the real question remains! Is Katie a good kisser? I can imagine she must be.” George gave her a sly smile. “You still haven’t told me about that.”

“No one could ever be as good of a kisser as you are George Weasley.” Hermione kissed his cheek and then his lips. “No one could ever make me feel like this.” 

•••  
They had spent the entire day reading and talking, and Hermione had even tried a Canary Cream. “They are quite fun aren’t they,” Hermione chirped after returning to her human state. “Very lemony.” She coughed and a small feather escaped from her throat. 

“They are one of my favorite creations. Mum inspired the flavor with all the pies she makes. I suspect that she’d be angry if she knew that though.” 

“I think she’d be proud! You and Fred built an empire from nothing. She would love knowing that she contributed to your store!” Hermione grabbed George’s hand and brought it to her lips. She kissed the pads of each one of his fingers before linking her fingers in his. 

“You’re so bloody cute, Mione,” George said looking at her. How could it be that he was falling in love with her? He had known her for the better part of a decade and now, it was as though he had never really even seen her before.

•••

The house was dark, and George was sleeping soundly as Hermione pushed open the door. Quietly, she locked the knob with her wand and tiptoed across the room. After placing her wand on the nightstand next to George’s, she climbed under the covers and gently kissed his lips, as she straddled his hips. He stirred as she continued to plant kisses along his jawline, and down his neck. “George, are you awake? I had to wait for Ginny to fall asleep.” She whispered in his good ear and sucked on his earlobe. “Come on, wake up!” 

“Mione,” His breath hitched in his throat. Before he even opened his eyes, she slipped her hand into his sweats and boxers. 

“It’s my turn to do something for you.” Hermione murmured, as she palmed his cock. “It’s something nice.” She wrapped her hand around his hardening member, and pumped several times, letting her thumb run over the head, which was now weeping slightly. His mouth fell open, and blinked slowly, before letting his eyes close again, but not out of sleepiness. 

Hermione pulled her hand out of George’s pants and got to her feet silently. “Lift your hips a bit, will you?” She said, pulling his pants down. “Help me out here George!” He lifted his hips off the bed and allowed Hermione to pull his sweats and boxers down his long legs. She had never done this before, but still, she figured that it couldn’t be that hard. 

George let out a gasp, and he felt shivers go up and down his spine when Hermione closed her mouth over his cock. “Fucking hell,” his head dropped back against his pillow and he tangled his hands in her hair. “Fuck, Mione…” He moaned loudly as she sucked him off, letting her tongue pay special attention to his head. It was all he could do not to buck his hips hard into her chin when he felt the head of his cock touch at the back of her throat. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked up into his heavenly lidded eyes. Hermione kept licking, sucking, and slurping at his member, as she watched his facial expressions change as pleasure sent shockwaves through his body. She moaned around his dick. The sound sent vibrations up his spine.

Suddenly, George pushed her off of him, his shiny saliva covered cock bounced up and smacked his abdomen. Her eyes widened in surprise. “Did I do something wrong? Did I bite you?!” She looked horrified and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. 

“No, nothing like that.” George lifted himself into a sitting position. “C’mere.” He pulled Hermione to him and crashed her lips against hers. The girl straddled his hips once again and pushed him back against the pillows, before ripping her shirt over her head and flinging it behind her. She came back down to kiss him just as hungrily as before. George ran his hands up her back and tangled one into her bushy hair, leaving the other between her shoulder blades. He could feel himself harden against her, and rolled his hips up swiftly. 

Hermione’s eyes flew open and she sat up. “Not so fast,” She crooned. “Let's take this slow.” She looked down at him and winked. 

“Whatever you say,” George cupped her breasts in his hands, and squeezed them gently, before letting his hands drop to her hips.

“Close your eyes, George.” Hermione giggled, putting her hand over his eyes to ensure that he wasn’t peeking. Carefully, she picked her wand off the bedside table pointed it at her cotton shorts. “Evanesco.” She whispered. 

“Mione? What are you doing? Oh-” George fell silent as Hermione placed her wand back on the nightstand. She lowered herself back down, careful to leave his cock between his hips and her wet and dripping pussy. She began rocking rhythmically against his dick, sliding her quim back and forth along his lengthy shaft. George’s eyes rolled back in his head as he put his hands on her hips, pulling her in the rhythm she chose. Hermione looked down to make eye contact with him, looking into his eyes and grinding him while biting her lip, and cupping her breasts. George bucked his hips up hard. 

“Oh fuck. Mione. Fuckin Merlin.” He was now grinding up onto her. She grabbed one of his hands and brought it up to her lips. “So much for closing your eyes.” Slowly, she took his middle finger into her lips and began to suck slowly. George bucked his hips up into Hermione’s, as she let his finger drop from her mouth. His hands traveled down her sides and cupped her ass. A guttural groan dredged it’s way up from deep inside of George. He pushed her up towards his mouth and caught her left breast in his mouth. The girl was powerless. All she could do was moan his name and grind herself against his hard cock. 

Sitting back up, Hermione’s hair fell in bushy cascades down over her breasts and back. When she leaned her head back, George moved to sweep her hair behind her shoulders. “You’re so perfect, Hermione. Fuck.” He was so busy caressing her chest that he didn’t notice her reach between them until he felt her grab his cock and hold it steady so she could sink down onto it. Slowly, she began rocking and rolling her hips as his hands traveled over her skin. “You feel so good. Fuck Mione. Fuuuuck.” George thrust his hips up, and his eyes shut. 

Suddenly, a loud crash sounded from the first floor and they stopped in their tracks. Lights flickered on around the house and Hermione scrambled off of George and to her feet. There was another loud crash and The two scrambled into their clothes. Hermione, who had vanished her shorts, pulled on a pair of George’s boxers and threw her shirt over her head. 

“Stay behind me.” George blocked her bath, putting an arm out to shield her from view. They crept down the stairs, followed by Percy and his parents. When they stepped onto the first floor, they were met by Ginny who had temporarily lowered her wand and was looking at Hermione with a stunned silence that Professor McGonagall would envy. 

“Hush, they’ll hear us!” 

“No, they won’t even know. SHHHH!” 

“That sounds like Ron,” Mr. Weasley said, pushing past George and Hermione. “And Harry?” 

The lights in the sitting room flooded the house with warmth, and Harry and Ron stumbled out of the fireplace. They were both teetering around like spinning tops and, falling into furniture and laughing. 

“What on earth is going on?!” Molly Weasley shouted, causing everyone to jump. “Are you two drunk?!” Ron had knocked the pot of floo powder to the ground and the two boys were in a fit of giggles as the looked at the broken vessel that had strewn its contents across the floor. 

“Sokay mum. We’re *hiccup*” Ron spluttered. Harry, who seemed to come to his senses, shook his head and tried to steady Ron on his uncoordinated feet. “Slughorn gave us some drink.”

“Hush Ron, you’re making it worse.” Harry didn’t sound as sloshed as Ron did, but still his words seemed mildly slurred. 

“Alright everyone, back to bed.” Mr. Weasley yawned, plopping down on the soft armchair by the window. “Your mother and I will clean this up. Harry, take Ron to his room will you?” Mrs. Weasley was already busying herself with cleaning up the mess, and Ginny was staring at Hermione as if she had suddenly grown a tail. 

No one but Ginny had seemed to notice that Hermione had come from George’s room and that she was wearing his underwear. Hermione could feel the younger girl’s eyes pierce her and she tried to pretend that she couldn’t see her at all. 

Hermione along with Percy and George, moved out of the way as Ron stumbled through with Harry. “Herman, what are you doing?” Ron staggered up to the stairs and eyed Hermione and George. 

“Come on Ron, let's get you to bed. Ginny, will you help me?” Harry gestured at Ginny to follow him. As the girl made her way past Hermione, she acted as if Hermione wasn’t there. Ignoring Ginny seemed to have angered her. 

“Come on, Mione let's go back to bed.” George pulled Hermione’s arm as he headed back up the stairs. “I’ll take care of Ginny. C’mon love.” Hermione smiled weakly and let George lead her up to his room. 

As the door to George’s room closed, Hermione pulled her shirt over her head, and stripped George’s shorts off and dropped them next to the bed along with her wand. “Come hold me?” She asked softly as she climbed into the sheets. 

“I’m already here, love.” George was behind Hermione, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her close to him. “That was… eventful. He said, burying his face in her shoulder. 

“It truly was. Do you think Ginny is mad?” 

“She’s always mad at something, Mione.” 

“Yes, but she’s one of my best friends. I don’t want her to be upset with me.” Hermione turned to face George. “We should all go somewhere tomorrow.” 

“Like where? Planning a trip to Cancun, or something?” George pushed Hermione’s hair out of her face and studied her as she lips twitched, almost as though she were going to smile.

“Not quite, though Cancun does sound lovely.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry that this chapter is so short! I will be posting more very soon. If you are enjoying this story, feel free to leave some love in the comments, and a red heart in the kudos! Your support means the world to me, and I am so thankful for each and every one of you!

Hermione woke to a weak grey light coming through the bedroom window. George’s chest rose and fell softly beneath her cheek as he slept. The clock said that it was only six in the morning, but she quietly pushed herself up and out of bed, careful to not disturb George or pull the blankets off of his naked body. The last thing she wanted was to wake him.

She dressed quickly, and quietly before she crept out of the room and down the stairs. Hermione did her best to ignore the nipping of the cool air on her legs, and wished for the warmth of George’s bed. She hoped that Harry wasn’t in Ginny’s room. As much as she loved them both, she never wanted to intrude on their alone time. They barely got any time together that wasn't full of the other family members or several friends. When she pushed the door open however, Ginny was alone in bed, wearing an oversized shirt which belonged to Harry. Judging by the size though, she was guessing that it had originally come from Dudley.

After silently closing the door, Hermione tiptoed across the room. “Gin, scoot over” she climbed into the bed next to the sleeping girl and cuddled up close to her. “Ginny, wake uuuup.” She whined softly, throwing one arm over the girl and nuzzling her shoulder.

Perhaps it was the fact that Ginny had not spoken to her in 24 hours, or maybe it was the events of the past several days, but tears stung her eyes. “Please Ginny, I need to talk to you.” Her voice sounded pitiful and she knew it, but Hermione couldn’t help it. Tears streamed down her face and she buried her head in the pillow, trying to remain silent.

“Mione?” Ginny stirred and blinked her sleepy eyes. “Mione, what’s wrong? Don’t cry.” The redhead wrapped her arms around her friend.”It’s okay, you can always talk to me. Now tell me why you're crying.” She blinked the sleep from her eyes and looked down at the older girl in her arms.

“You’re going to be mad. You’re one of my best friends and I don’t want you to be upset, but I have no one else to talk to.” Ginny yawned and hugged her friend closer.

“I’m not mad at you. I know you like him, and it’s okay. You deserve to be with someone who makes you happy. I just wish you had told me.” She stroked Hermione’s hair. “Don’t cry.” She could feel Hermione’s tears through the thin grey fabric of her shirt. “Shhh… Mione, you’re okay.” Ginny was not accustomed to seeing her friend cry.

“I can’t help it. I just miss my mom and dad so much. I’m falling in love with your stupid brother, I have this horrible word carved into my arm, I’m cold, and… and… I’m just sad, Ginny. I know I must sound stupid, but I can’t help it.” Hermione wrapped her arms around Ginny and squeezed as hard as she could.

“Mione,” Ginny Squeaked, eyes popping slightly. “Crushing ribs. Must stop. Can’t breathe.”

“I’m sorry,” Hermione let the girl go and sat up, hugging her knees to her chest. “I’m just being silly.”

“No, you're not. You just saved the world, and have somehow developed feelings for a large ginger baboon. It would be a lot of anyone.” Ginny lifted her head and propped herself up against the pillows. “You’re gonna be okay” She rubbed circles into Hermione’s back.

“I hope so. I really do like George. I never thought I would, but I do. I even like some of his products. Did you know that he even created chewing gum that allows the chewer to breathe fire, like a dragon? Some of the flames are even green!”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Is that what it is? I was wondering why he had so many new burns. He said it was from cooking but-”

“Cooking? I didn’t know that he could cook.” Hermione said looking up at Ginny.

“Yeah, that’s the thing, though. He cooks very well, but mum has forbidden him from using the kitchen after he charmed all of the pots and pans to make our food blue. Everything was a luminous shade of teal for months.”

“That’s awful. I can see why he’s not allowed to use the kitchen then.” She giggled and wiped her face with her shirt sleeve, sniffling slightly. “Promise you're not mad. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” Her voice wavered. “What gave it away,” Hermione asked, though she already knew the answer.

“When we followed Percy into Fred and George’s room, I saw your bra on the floor. That mulberry colored one that Parvati loaned you! And he winked at you… twice! I promise I’m not mad, so stop looking so distraught. Now lay here with me and go to sleep. It’s still so early.” Ginny yawned again and shimmied back down into her sleeping position beneath the blankets. Hermione flopped back down next to her. “You know, you’re gonna have to go on a real date sometime,” She smiled wickedly “And I get to decide what you wear,” Ginny said.

“Only if you go to lunch with us today,” Hermione said softly. “You, me, George… you can even bring Harry!”

“Or you and I can go shopping, and I can help you pick some clothes for a romantic date.” GInny was careful to emphasize the last word. “Have you two… uh… you WERE wearing his underwear after all.”

“Gin!” Hermione kneed her friend beneath the covers and giggled, hiding her face in her hands.

“Oh, gross!” They both giggled madly as the idea of sex and love whirled around their heads, as they let themselves fall back asleep.

•••  
Hermione and Ginny sat in the back of a small restaurant in Muggle London. They had left the house earlier that morning after eating a quick breakfast of toast and Mrs. Weasley’s homemade jam.

“What kind of food did you say this was?” Ginny was looking around the brick-walled restaurant. There were small white candles on each table, along with large plastic Italian flags that acted as tablecloths. I was a cozy little spot, and friendly staff members refilled their water cups. “I’ve never seen a room like this.”

“It’s a pizza place. Have you never had pizza before?”

“What’s a pitza? Sounds like a kind of dog.”

“Not Pitza. It’s PIZZA. Pee-z-uh, Ginny. Have you really never had any?”

“Yeah, that’s what I said. Pitza.”

Before Hermione could respond, a thin brunette with several platters hurried up to their table. “Hello ladies, here is your lunch! One medium pepperoni pizza, one cheese, and an order of breadsticks. Please let me know if there is anything else that I can help you with. My name is Heather.” The waitress smiled at them both after placing their food on the table. “Enjoy!” Before she turned away, she gave them both a small wink.

“Well,” said Hermione looking at her friend. “What do you think.”

“It looks like it’s been squished. Why's it so flat?” Ginny picked up a piece and sniffed it. “Smells heavenly though.”

“Jumst tafe a bife Finny.” Hermione was devouring her first slice, and already reaching for another. The redhead smiled. It was very un Hermione like to talk with her mouth full, especially with this much vigor and gusto.

Ginny took a bite of her slice, and her eyes widened. “This is incredible! Hermione, how come you’ve never told me about this pitza before?” She immediately reached out and took two more slices of each pizza. “Can we take some home? I bet mum and dad would love this. Plus, you should bring something back for your new boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” Hissed Hermione, a crimson blush crept up the back of her neck and flushed her ears. “But yes, we really should take some back to them.”

“Great!” Squealed Ginny, eating yet another piece of Pizza. “We can grab some on the way back!”

“On the way back? On the way back from where?”

“You’ll see. And so will George.” Hermione should have known by the look on Ginny’s face that she was plotting something.

•••  
“Hermione, come on, let me see!” Ginny stood outside the fitting room in the back of Vernal Lace, a little lingerie shop just down the street from where they had been eating lunch an hour before.

“Gin, I look ridiculous.” Hermione stood in front of the full-length mirror and huffed. She could feel the soft shag carpet between her toes and the air was pleasantly warm. Strands of small paper lanterns hung from the ceiling, and illuminated the dressing rooms, casting shadows across her body. The low lighting flattered her figure and accentuated her trim figure nicely. Hermione wondered briefly what George would say if he could see her now.

“I seriously doubt that. I’m coming in.” Ginny quickly slipped past the curtain that acted as the door to the small room.

“Tell me the truth, Ginny. Honestly, how do I look?” The half-naked brunette turned towards her friend.

“Like you have to use the loo. Stop moving around so much.” Hermione had crossed her arms over her chest and had begun shifting from foot to foot in an attempt to mask her anxiety. “And uncross your bloody arms. For the love of Merlin’s old wrinkly grandmother, it’s just lingerie Mione, not a skrewt. You shouldn’t be so afraid of it.” Ginny pulled at Hermione’s arms, trying to reveal her torso. “Merlin’s beard! You look fantastic!”

“You seem to be saying Merlin an awful lot, Gin.” Hermione turned back and looked at herself in the mirror and took in her reflection. The dainty lace of the shamrock green garment stood out nicely against her pale skin, and if she was being honest with herself, she rather liked the way she looked.

“Yeah, maybe.” Ginny was busy pulling her shirt over her head to try on a satin bra that was the color of warm golden sand. “Are you going to get the matching panties as well then?”

Hermione ran her hands over her chest, to cup her breasts, letting them bounce back down. “I suppose I should…” she trailed off as she looked at the younger witch. “I wish my breasts were bigger. They’re so small.” She frowned.

“No, they are not. They look perfectly fine.”

“Are you going to get that?! It looks so…”

“Yes?” Ginny came to stand next to Hermione so she could look in the mirror, and bumped her out of the way with her right hip.

“It looks so ancient. You should pick another color. Navy maybe?” She reached behind her back and unhooked the bra carefully before folding it nicely and pulling her own bralette on followed by her shirt.

“Navy? That sounds like it might work.” Carefully, Ginny pulled her wand out of her pocket which had been bewitched with Hermione’s undetectable extension charm, and pointed it at her chest and muttered “Chameleoiux.” The fabric of the brassiere slowly turned to a royal navy. “How about this?” The redhead turned to Hermione who had taken a seat on the small velvet stool in the corner and put her hands on her hips.

“Maybe a chocolate or carob color? The color would really compliment your skin.” Hermione tilted her head. You do look great though. Strike a pose, Gin. Come on, vogue!” Ginny put one hand on her hip, and extended the other one in the air, as she giggled madly.

After getting fully dressed, and grabbing several extra pieces in various colors, the girls made their way to the front of the store to purchase their choices. Ginny fumbled with the clumsy muggle currency, but the girl behind the counter barely seemed to notice.

“Cmon, Mione… you walk too slow!” Ginny linked her arm in Hermione’s and pulled her down the street, back towards Puppet’s Pizzaria to pick up some pizzas for the rest of the Weasley family.

•••  
“You girls are so thoughtful, bringing dinner like this.” Mrs. Weasley took the five flat boxes from Hermione’s arms and set them on the table before turning to hug her and Ginny. “Did you two have a fun day shopping in London? You weren’t seen apperating were you?”

“No, mum. You worry too much.” Ginny took a seat next to her father at the long kitchen table.

“Is this… muggle food?” Asked Mr. Weasley, eyes wide with hope.

Ginny laid out the boxes, opening each one carefully, as Hermione deposited their shopping bags into the room they both shared. “Yes dad, it’s called pitza. Here we have a thing called a king.” She said, pointing at the box.

“A supreme.” Hermione corrected her, shaking her bushy brown head as she returned to the kitchen.

“Whatever. Anyway. This is a supreme, and this one here,” Ginny rolled her eyes and moved to the second box, “Is a cheese pitza.”

While Ginny and her father spoke about pizza toppings, Muggles, and their eccentricities, Hermione went upstairs to fetch George. The bedroom door was open slightly, and she found him sitting at his desk, a pair of magnifying goggles balanced on his nose as he tinkered with a small box. She stood there silently for a moment, watching him, and then he began to speak. He wasn’t speaking to her, but rather someone Hermione couldn’t see.

“You’ll never believe it, Freddie. I think I may be falling for our favorite little swot. I saved her from the big storm we had. You know the one… the one that rattled the windows so much… and I think when I saved her… I think she saved me too.” Hermione smiled in spite of herself. Hearing him talk to Fred like this made her happy. George sounded so joyful talking about her. As much as she loved the words he was saying, his tone was the best part. He had been so morose since the battle, and anything that brought him joy was good.

“Ah-hem.” She cleared her throat softly as she walked into the room. “I… I mean, Ginny and I brought dinner. Would you like to come and join us while we eat?”

“Mione!” George turned in his seat and smiled as he saw the smaller witch standing in the doorway. “Sure, I’ve just about finished for the evening anyway. You can come in you know, you don’t have to wait there.”

A shimmering golden ray of light sparkled through the cracked window. The storm had finally passed and the entire countryside was lit up with gold and yellow sunbeams. They couldn’t see it, but a brilliant rainbow painted the sky above The Burrow. Hermione sat on George’s bed and allowed herself to fall back onto the soft blankets. The sun danced across her cheeks and nose, illuminating her freckles.

“Here comes the sun, doo doo doo doo.” She sang quietly, closing her eyes. “Here comes the sun, and I say… It's all right.” She smiled and turned in her side to look at George sitting at his desk.

He looked over at the girl and grinned. As he stood, George pulled the goggles off and tossed them to his desk. “What are you grinning at, aye Granger?”

“Need I point out that you are grinning too, Weasley.” She chided.

George closed the gap between the desk and the bed and pulled Hermione to her feet. He pulled her hips flush against his with one arm and linked his other hand in hers. They slowly sway together, dancing to the sound of soft and distant voices downstairs. George twirled her around and dipped her low before pulling her back to him.

“You’re so beautiful, Hermione.” He kissed her forehead quickly before pressing a kiss to her lips. He spun her around again and dipped her even lower than before, before promptly dropping her directly into the bed. “Race you downstairs! Loser makes the winner breakfast.” And with that, he tore out the door and down the stairs to join the others in the kitchen. “Make sure you get Percy too!” He called behind him.

Hermione sat up and pulled off her sweatshirt, revealing the mustard-colored tank beneath. She found herself smiling, even though there was no one there to see it. She loved George Weasley, and there was a good chance that he loved her too. She pushed herself up and made her way to the room Percy lived in.

As George walked down the stairs, he realized that nothing could ever possibly be as amazing as the realization that he loved Hermione Granger, and that based on everything he knew, she loved him too.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you are as in love with this story as I am! If you like this and want to read more, feel free to bookmark this story so you never miss a chapter. Comments and hearts are appreciated! Happy reading!

Hermione and the Weasleys sat around the table, laughing and trying the different pizzas and debating which topping was the best. They had also been joined by both Harry and Ron who duplicated two of the pizzas. 

“Muggles really do know how to cook don’t they,” George said taking another breadstick and depositing it onto his plate. “Not as good as your cooking mum,” He said, glancing up at her. “Nothing compares to your corned beef.” 

Hermione smiled at George from across the table. “I’m so glad that you all like it! Pizza is one of my favorites. My family…” She trailed off and shook her head. She tried to avoid talking about her mother and father when she could. She missed them, and thinking about them often made her sad. Though they were no longer in immediate danger, she still felt uneasy going to find them. Many Death Eaters were still at large and could follow her, even to such a remote location in Australia. 

“It’s okay Mione.” Ginny ran her foot up and down the side of Hermione’s calf. “They’re safe. You will be able to find them soon. Don’t worry.” She smiled sweetly when she met the older witch’s eyes. 

Hermione’s mouth twitched upwards as she tried her best to send Ginny a knowing look. “Thank you.” She mouthed. Ginny winked and nudged her foot under the table. She nudged back.

“I’ll say, little brother dear, I know you are lonely and all… but please refrain from playing footsie with me under the table. Our parents are here and everything.” George chucked a piece of crust over the table and it hit Ron squarely on the nose. 

“Oy! Come off it. I didn’t bloody touch your gigantic feet.” Ron swore. “Damn you, George. I have sauce on my shirt now.” 

“Don’t get mad at me! And you know what they say about giant feet…” 

Hermione choked on a pepperoni and tried to hide the crimson blush that had spread across her cheeks. 

“GEORGE!” Molly yelled, smacking her hand off the table. 

“What?! They say that the bigger the feet, the better the table manners.” He looked at Hermione, who had gone very quiet, and winked. 

•••  
The boxes had been cleared from the table, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley sat outside looking at the garden. Hermione and Harry had spent quite a bit of time degnoming it the previous week, and they had not returned to their rampage of the cabbages yet. 

Harry and Ron had returned yet again to Hogsmeade to get a good night’s sleep before continuing with the repairs that remained the next day. After they had all said their goodbyes, Percy thanked Hermione and Ginny profusely as he made his way upstairs, muttering about how he “needed to get ready for the meeting.” 

Hermione and Ginny were both headed into Ginny’s bedroom just off the kitchen, leaving George behind. “Thank you again for dinner, you lot.” He said as he edged passed them on the way to his room. “Hope you had a good time in London.” 

“We did, th…” 

“We had a great time. Actually, George… Hermione has something for you. I’m sure she’ll bring it up to you later.” Ginny said loudly, cutting Hermione off mid-sentence. Before George could respond, the redhead pulled her friend into her room and closed the door in his face.

“Ginny, I didn’t get anything for George. What are you on about?” The youngest Weasley was rummaging around in the small black shopping bags and thrust one into Hermione’s hands before plopping herself down on the bed and grinning wickedly. 

“What do you think this is?” She said, gesturing at the small parcel. “Put on your new lingerie and go seduce your beau.” 

Hermione chuckled at the girl’s face. She knew Ginny was still struggling with the idea of her being so enamored with George, and it showed as she contorted her mouth and scrunched her eyes closed. 

“Okay, but I’m not very good at being seductive,” Hermione said, pulling her new lace bra and knickers out of the small bag. 

“You don’t need to be good at being ’seductive’.” Ginny used air quotes for the last word. “Just put these on, march upstairs and knock on the door. I think I am going to go to Hogsmeade though. I really miss Harry, and Luna so I thought I’d pop off to school for a while and help.” 

“Oh, do you mind if I join you?” Hermione asked, sitting next to her friend on the full-sized mattress. 

“Are you sure that you’re ready to… go back?” Ginny asked. “Mione, I think you should stay here. Mum relies on you, you can’t just leave her on her own. Things have been so hard since… since Fred…” Ginny trailed off, pressing her lips tightly together. A single tear fell from her eyes, and she stood up. “I think I’m gonna head out. See you later Mione.” She pulled Hermione to her feet and hugged her quickly before pecking her on the cheek. The girl turned on the spot and disappeared into thin air with a familiar pop. 

Hermione sat back down and looked at the small pile of lace on the bed next to her. Percy was up in his room, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were still sitting together outside. As far as she knew, she and George were the only two that were free for the evening. She supposed that she should show him what she had bought. After all, he was the reason that she had gotten anything in the first place. Quietly, Hermione walked out of Ginny’s room and made her way to the loo. 

•••  
When she had closed the bathroom door, Hermione pulled her shirt over her head and stripped down to her knickers. “Merlin, what have I gotten myself into.” She chuckled and turned the on the water, and letting it fill the bathroom with steam, before pulling her panties down her legs. Slowly she climbed into the shower. 

The hot water stung her skin as the droplets bounced off her scalp and shoulders. She lathered her body, taking extra time to massage the soap into her shoulders and arms. The crude carving that had been tattooed into her arm was angry at the heat that was assaulting it, sending an itchy burn rocketing through her forearm. She was a Muggle-born, it was true, but the word didn’t bother her as much as it used to. Being born to Muggles was no different than being born with freckles. 

After finishing in the shower, she turned the water off and squeezed out her hair, causing a small rainstorm to thunder from her head, as the water fell to her feet with loud crashes and splashes. Then, a soft knock came from the door. 

“Hello?!” Hermione scrambled to wrap a towel tightly around her body before she flung the door open, breathing heavily. 

“Hermione?” 

She was standing face to face with Percy.

“Hello, Percy. I’m sorry for hogging the loo. I just really needed to shower, after being out all day.” She tried not to meet his eyes. She had been seen naked by one Weasley, and she didn’t intend to be seen by a second. 

“It’s quite alright. I was just hoping to use the facilities. I am going to be heading to the Ministry. Kingsly is planning a…” He trailed off, trying not to look at Hermione. “He’s planning a fundraiser party of sorts.” Percy looked like he did not approve of anything that could be considered a party. 

“Yes, yes of course. I’ll just grab my clothes and get out of your way.” In one swift movement, Hermione had swept her clothes into her arms and edged passed Percy and into the hallway. “Good luck! You will have fun won’t you?” With that, she scurried down the stairs and back into Ginny’s bedroom. 

•••  
Hermione stood in front of the long mirror in the corner of the room, wearing her new bra and panties. She turned from side to side, running her hand over her skin, caressing her breasts, stomach, and bum. She never wore stuff like this, so she wasn’t sure if she was doing it correctly. Was she supposed to be wearing something fancy over these? What if George thought it was silly? She’d be devastated. 

Hermione dug in Ginny’s closet and managed to find several dresses. She tied on the first one, a short black silky little dress with thin straps. It was very pretty, and the lace trim at the bottom matched the fabric of her panties. She pulled the dress over her head and sent it back to the closet with a flick of her wand.

Next, she tried on the Chocolate covered dress that Hermione had given her as a Christmas gift. The cotton was soft on her skin and fell around her legs. Again, she pulled the dress over her head and sent it flying back to the closet. 

Hermione repeated this 3 more times. Sending the garments flying in such quick procession that she might as well have been directing a circus. 

Sighing, she pulled her now dry hair into a messy bun, and after performing a quick and simple hair removal spell to her body, she stepped into a pair of soft grey sweats and the baggy orange shirt that George had lent her earlier that week. Hermione took one last look at herself in the mirror, grabbed a pair of clean cotton knickers and her latest book, Kneazles: Cats Of Justice, and headed out of Ginny’s room and up the staircase. 

“Knock Knock,” She said pushing the door open. “Mind if I join you in here.” She smiled when she saw him. George was lying on his bed, munching on a sugar quill, and staring at the ceiling. His other hand was on his wand, as he directed what looked like a miniature quaffle through one of the three small hoops that were hanging from the ceiling. He turned to look at her and hopped up, letting the ball come zooming down to the floor. 

“Good to see you Granger, come on in. Close the door though would you?” He met her in the middle of the room and wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her into a tight hug. “I missed you today.” He murmured, kissing the top of her head. 

“I missed you too, George. I hoped you liked dinner. I brought the ‘bbq pineapple chicken’ pizza just for you. It was silly but tasty and perfect… just like you.” Hermione stood on her tiptoes and kissed George on the nose. She smiled and pulled him by the hand to his bed.

“You sure are anxious to bed me tonight.” George chuckled, “It’s good to know that you think that I'm yummy though. You yourself are rather… delicious.” He met her eyes and winked as he climbed onto the covers next to her. 

George propped himself up against the headboard. He was happier than he should be to see Hermione. He had known her for the better part of a decade. He remembered seeing her make her way through the halls of the school or lounging outside of The Burrow every year since he had met her. He remembered the blue dress she had worn for the yule ball, and he remembered how excited she had been when the silver otter swam out of her wand during a particularly productive meeting of the DA. Could it have been that he always sort of fancied her? 

He looked down at Hermione, who had opened her book and was reading, completely unaware of the world around her. She was so effortlessly beautiful. It was almost as if she had no idea of how flawless she was. Her hair was threatening to break free of its bun, and the shirt she was wearing hung off of one of her shoulders, revealing a green strap over her delicate shoulder. The sun had set, but looking at her, you’d never know. She was the sun, or rather her light put the sun to shame. 

George sighed, and bent down to kiss her forehead and then her lips. “I need to do something at my desk for a moment, love. Store stuff. Please feel free to keep reading.” 

“Okay, I’ll be here…” The last of Hermione’s words tumbled off her lips quietly, as she continued to read about Kneazles and their habits as young kittens. George stood and settled himself at his desk. 

Hermione had only managed to read for about 45 minutes. She was looking at George over the top of her book. He was incredibly handsome. He had always been rather good looking, and very popular. Perhaps it was his looks, but more than likely, it was because of how bright his presence was. He lit up every room that he walked into. George was funny and personable. He song with Fred and the rest of the Weasleys were genuine and well rounded, so it’s no surprise that he was well-liked. 

Throwing caution to the wind, she closed her book and put it under a pillow. Hermione climbed out of bed and to her feet. She glanced back over at the redhead, who was still bent over his desk. The witch pulled the band out of her hair, and stripped off her baggy clothes, now donning only her new green lace pieces. She tiptoed up behind George and began to massage his shoulders. 

“Mmmm… Mione, that feels so good.” George closed his eyes and leaned back, abandoning the work at his desk. She continued to work circles into his shoulders, and his head fell back, eyes still closed. “Yeah, that’s the spot.” He groaned. “I’m a sucker for a good back rub.” 

Hermione bent forward and placed a soft kiss on George’s lips. He inhaled sharply and returned the kiss. “Mione, let’s move this snogging massage session to the bed.” His eyes fluttered open as he turned in his chair to stand up. “Woah.” George let his eyes run up and down her body as he stood. She looked so sexy, and it was even sexier that she had been hiding all of this under her baggy clothes. 

“What do you think?” Hermione smiled. “I got them because I thought you’d like them on me.” She had never sought approval in this way. The girl was always so sure of her actions, and thoughts. Hermione took a step forward and pressed her palms against his stomach, and ran them up to his chest. She could feel the soft grey fabric under her fingers and she looked up into his hazel eyes as he pulled her hips to him. 

“Of course I like them, love.” He swooped down and kissed her. George captured both of her wrists in his hands and put them around his neck. “I like them a lot.” He hummed into her lips. 

“I’m so glad, George. You were all I could think of today.” She began to sway on her feet, and the boy followed suit. They stood there dancing slowly to the silence. Hermione looked up at him and pressed her lips to his jaw. Suddenly she got an idea.

Hermione inched George back until the chair was directly behind him, and she pushed his back, causing him to plop down on the seat. 

“Mione, what are you doing?” Hermione straddled his hips, and kissed him fiercely, and slowly rolled her hips against his. “How do you want me?” She whispered into his tongue. “Tell me, George… tell me how you want me. What do you want to do to me.” All he could do is groan as Hermione began kissing his jaw. 

“Fuck.” He breathed, squeezing her thighs. 

“Is that it?” She whispered in his ear. “You wanna fuck me? But we’re having so much fun doing this.” Hermione took his earlobe into her warm, wet mouth and sucked it, before letting her teeth graze the skin. She could feel him straining against her. Hermione latched onto the pulse point of his neck and sucked hard. 

George’s hands found her waist and he thrust against her, pulling her hips down hard. She could feel her soaking panties getting slicker and slicker, and her breathing was heavy. 

“Maybe we should move this to the bed.” She breathed. Hermione pushed herself off of George’s lap and sauntered back to his bed, giving her hips just the right amount of sway as she went. She climbed on her hands and knees across the fabric, and looked back over her shoulder at George, arching her back. He sat in his chair and watched her. He reached into his sweats and pulled out his cock and ran his hand up and down his length, unable to take his eyes off of her. 

“Or maybe you should stay like that for a moment. It’s quite a lovely view.” He breathed as he wanked to the sight of her. His hand moved faster and faster, and his abdomen clenched, sending ripples through the muscles on his toned stomach. 

“I suppose I could.” Hermione propped herself up with an elbow and ran her other hand in between her legs. He could see her fingers run over the fabric of her knickers as she teased herself. The lace crotch was soaked, and her nimble fingers slid across the slickness easily. A soft moan escaped her lips, and her eyes were heavy and filled with lust. Seeing George sitting there, shirt pulled up, and cock in hand was almost too much. Before she knew it, George was on his knees on the bed behind her. 

“Hermione…” He grabbed her and pulled her up and around to face him. “Hermione.” He whispered her name and kissed her. Things seemed to go in slow motion as he teased her lips open and his tongue danced with hers like it had never tasted another kiss before. 

They fell back onto the bed, tangled in each other’s arms. Hermione pulled at his shirt and pushed it up and over his shoulders, breaking the kiss only long enough to rip his shirt over his head.

“Let’s get you out of this, huh Mione?” George kissed her neck and reached behind her to unhook her bra and she shimmied out of her shamrock green lace knickers. When She was properly naked, George pulled the covers over them. 

“Fuck, I want you." George had broken their kiss for only a moment, to catch his breath, the front of his pants tented. 

"I’m all yours, baby," Hermione whispered into his ear, stopping to nibble and suck gently on his earlobe. She slithered her hand down his chest and stomach, to rub the front of his sweats. As she did, a sound came from deep inside George’s throat. He held her chin in one hand as he tilted her head back and kissed her again. Hard. 

The older wizard rolled over onto his back, pulling the small girl on top of him. Hermione straddled his hips as she continued to kiss him with all that she had. Emotions ran wild in her head and her movements became frenzied. She began to grind against his hips and moaned into his lips. After a moment, George wrestled himself on top of her again. 

"Please don’t ever stop this," Hermione whispered. She reached up and slid her hands up his thighs and to his hips. George’s eyes rolled back in his head and he extended his arms up, linking his fingers together and resting them palms down on the top of his head, eyes closed. 

Hermione ran her slender fingers along that faint trail of red hair that led down to his crotch, and he inhaled sharply as she quickly vanished his pants. She licked her lips and wrapped her hand around George’s dick, as she pumped her hand a few times in a slow and steady rhythm. 

His mouth fell open slightly, and the witch reached up with her free hand to pull one of George’s arms down, and placed his hand on one of her breasts. George rocked into her hand, his breathing labored and heavy.

Then he moved quickly, pulling away from her and attacked her body with his lips. George’s mouth grazed Hermione’s body, leaving a trail of kisses over her stomach and chest. She moaned as the boy’s tongue flicked over a nipple. 

"Ge...org..e" the name was broken as it passed through her lips. "George, oh fuck.." the rest of her sentence was lost as she felt his hand travel down her body and onto her inner thigh. Hermione gasped and shivered as she felt George’s fingers begin to rub her clit and her tight wet pussy. 

“What’s this?” He looked down and her hips. “Nice and smooth I see? Did you shave like this just for me? Just so I could feel how soft and wet you are?” He then finally started massaging her from the inside. 

George kissed his way down her body again, nipping the skin occasionally. When he got to her hips, he began licking at her clit and then pressing his tongue inside of her. Hermione moaned loudly, grabbing at the pillow sustaining her head as she bucked her hips into George’s mouth. She was trying to be quiet, but she just couldn’t. It was all Hermione could do not to melt into a puddle on his sheets. Finally, she bit her lip and pulled George up to her face, kissing him fiercely. His tongue tasted like her. 

"I love that I can taste myself on your lips." She whispered against his mouth. Hermione kissed her way along George’s jawline and whispered into his ear, "I want to feel you inside of me, George." She was quivering beneath him. He grinned into her hair. She sounded so Hermione like. He could almost hear her demanding that he do his homework.

He slid in and out of her slowly until she responded to the rhythm, and began to moan softly, begging him for more. George took both of the girl’s wrists in his left hand and pinned them above her head. When he hit her g-spot at just the right angle, she moaned his name loudly, jerking her hips up onto his cock. 

George leaned down and kissed her, sucking on her bottom lip and using his free hand to squeeze her breasts, letting his thumb massage her nipples until they were hard. Hermione continued to jerk her hips up into George as he thrust into her hard and fast, keeping his pace quick, with her legs wrapped around him. The girl’s eyes rolled back in her head. The witch moaned, as screamed out his name and clawed at his back. He moaned and pressed his lips to hers. 

"George, I love the way you feel inside of me," Hermione was breathless, as she threw her head back into George’s pillows. "Oh Merlin, your cock is so good."

"Fuck, I’m gonna cum." George wrapped his arms around her and rolled to his back, letting her ride him. He looked up at her, his eyes dark and hooded. There was a jerk behind Hermione’s navel as she grabbed his hands and placed them on her breasts. 

"Cum for me baby." She held herself up, with her hands on his stomach, thrusting onto him hard and fast. She could feel it happening before she could stop it. Hermione came all over George’s cock, shivering and riding the waves of her orgasm. He rolled over again and thrust into her a few more times as she moaned his name, kissing him tenderly. 

"I’m coming, fuck I’m coming." He couldn’t stop it. George spilled into her, gasping and scrambling out of her as quickly as he could. “Oh, bollocks, I'm so sorry Mione.” 

“George, it’s fine. Don’t worry, my cycle starts in a few days. I’m sure everything will be okay. I just need to run to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” As she left, George whistled at her, smiling wolfishly. 

•••  
Hermione laughed loudly as George tickled her ribs. “Mione, I refuse to believe that Muggles have winged buffalos.” He laughed. Hermione had redressed in her sweats, clean panties, and sweats, and settled back into George’s bed, nesting beneath the covers. They had been talking about that night’s dinner and all of the muggle food that she loved. 

“Of course buffalos don't have wings.” She rolled her eyes. “Buffalo wings are actually made of chicken. Some of them are even boneless!” 

“What do they taste like?”

“Oh there’s all sorts,” Hermione said excitedly, turning on her side to look at him. “There’s barbeque flavors and teriyaki. Then there are hot wings, and of course buffalo sauce.” She counted off different flavors on her fingers. “Honey and sriracha, spicy roasted garlic, spicy Caribbean… oh and you can’t forget Thai curry and lemon pepper...” Before she could finish, George had pressed a kiss to her lips. 

“You’re so cute when you’re talking about food, Mione. Tell me more about the foods you like.” He smiled and put his arm around her. “Give me a top ten list of your favorites, and I will try all of them with you.” She smiled at his words. Imaging George sucking the sauce off of his fingers, or fumbling with a pair of chopsticks as he discovered a whole new world of food, made her happy. There is no one else that she rather share a meal or her time with. 

“Well, I love sushi. It's a kind of Japanese food. My favorite is called the Golden Dragon. It has tempura shrimp inside, and it's topped with salmon, spicy mayonnaise, lemon, and tiny orange fish eggs.” George had pulled a roll of parchment from beside his bed and was scribbling furiously. “I love chicken sandwiches. I make them when I… when I went home during the summer holiday. Grilled cheese sandwiches are good too. I make them with mayonnaise instead of butter, I also put bread and butter pickles on them. My dad used to drink the pickle juice right out of the jar.” She smiled sadly at the memories. “I also love burritos and tacos. Enchiladas are wonderful too. They are all from Mexico. You’d like them.” George was scribbling so vigorously that his body shook. “I am also quite fond of Chinese food. Orange chicken is quite lovely, and all the shrimp dishes are incredible”

“Who would eat a shrimp? Are muggle chickens orange? I’ve never seen an orange chicken before.” He asked not looking up. 

“They aren’t actually orange, just cooked with orange zest.” She sighed and reached out and caressed his face. “Cheeseburgers are good as well. They are an American food, but easy to find and make.” 

“Is that all?” He looked up at her and gestured down at his paper. I’m making notes. “There isn’t much room left though. 

“It’s not complicated at all. I love egg salad and deviled eggs. They are my absolute favorite.” She blushed. “That’s the whole list.” 

“Ah, then we will start working on trying everything!” He smiled again, and set the quill and parchment on the bedside table, and picked up Hermione’s book. “Let’s read a bit, aye?” 

Hermione laid her head on George’s chest and closed her eyes. “Will you read to me? I like hearing your voice.” She sighed and scrunched her face, burying her nose in his sparse chest hair. George chuckled, but opened the book to the beginning, and began to read about Kneazles. 

•••  
“Mione? You awake?” George nudged Hermione. He had reached chapter eight of the book, and she hadn’t moved since he finished the second page. 

“Yes, but only just.” She murmured. Her hair covered her face, and it moved slightly with her steady breaths. George tucked the strands behind her ear and tipped her chin up so he could see her face. 

“Let’s get to sleep. You’ve had a long day.” He placed the book on the floor next to the bed and wrapped both arms around her. “Hermione, I was thinking…” 

“Yes?” Hermione’s eyes fluttered open. She rolled over onto her back and lifted her hips into the air. The witch pushed her pants down and pushed them over the side of the bed. They fell with a soft thud on the carpet next to her lace lingerie.

“Would you be willing to come to the flat with me.” She settled back into the covers and wrapped her arms around him as he continued. “The one that’s above the shop. I was thinking of reopening soon. It’s been closed for a while now, and I think that Fred would want me to reopen. We’ve been working on it out whole lives after all.” 

‘I’d be happy to go with you. I can’t say that I won’t miss you though. Seeing you every day is the best part of being here.” She blushed, and kissed his chest lightly, and sighed. 

“That’s the thing though. I was wondering if you would be willing to…” He tried to find the right words. “I was wondering if you’d be willing to move there with me. I could use someone to help in the shop during the day, and there is an extra room. We could be roommates.” 

Hermione sat up and looked down at him. 

“Plus, it would make it easier if you were there. Fred’s death is so painful, that being alone in the space we created together would drive me crazy.” He added quickly.

“I would love that. What will your parents say though? Won’t they be suspicious of us living together?” Her mouth twitched, curving up to form a weak smile. “But yes, I would love to move into the flat with you.” She smiled and swooped down to place a soft kiss on his lips before curling up next to him. 

“Wicked. The first thing we will do is try some chicken lips. It will be the grandest feast the world has ever seen.” He nestled into the blankets and closed his eyes. 

“Buffalo wings, George. Not chicken lips.” She giggled softly. They both drifted off into the land of slumber with smiles on their faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter coming soon!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you all love this story as much as I do! I can't wait to write more. If you're diggin the story, feel free to bookmark it so you never miss an update!

The smell of bacon and eggs filled the house as Hermione and George made their way down the stairs. They had both been awake for an hour, talking and reviewing the best way to approach his family.

“I see you two have finally gotten yourselves up.” Mrs. Weasley said as they walked into the kitchen.

“Sorry, mum… slept in.” George rubbed the back of his neck as he looked at the floor.

“No need for apologies dear. Just make sure you fix Hermione’s plate first. It’s the polite thing to do for your girlfriend, after all.” She smiled knowingly at the pair of them and held out two plates.

The kitchen was oddly empty with the absence of Ron, Harry, Ginny, and Percy. Only Mr. and Mrs. Weasley remained at home as everyone else was out. Percy was with Kingsley, and with Oliver Wood. They had fairly inseparable since the war. They had always been friends at school, and their friendship had only deepened as the years went on. Ginny, of course, was in Hogsmeade with Harry and Ron. Charlie and Bill were off with their families and Fred… well, Fred would never visit the kitchen again. No matter how good the bacon smelled.

“So mum… dad… I was thinking about going back to the shop today. I want to reopen Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, and I was thinking that Hermione could come with me. She has no home to go back to after all. She can’t see her parents yet, and it’s not like she can just go back to school. There is an empty room there and I could use the help getting the shop back in order.” George said nibbling at a piece of toast. “I’d pay her of course.”

Hermione and George had discussed this earlier that day. She had never been a huge fan of Fred and George’s jokes and wild antics while they were in school, as they often acted as distractions from classes and homework, but she couldn't deny how brilliant the magic was that whirled through the WWW products. She tried to hide the smile that was creeping up on her lips as George spoke to his mother and father.

“Are you sure that you are ready to go back? George, there is no need to rush things.” Mr. Weasley said, looking over his paper.

“Hush. I think that is a lovely idea.” Said Mrs. Weasley, dumbing a second helping of eggs on their plates. “Arthur and I were going to be going to Diagon Alley today as well. We can all go together.” She sat down next to Mr. Weasley and squeezed his shoulder.

“George,” Mr. Weasley cleared his throat and put down the newest issue of the Daily Prophet. “Are you sure that you are ready? It could be rather dangerous still. Many of the Death Eaters are still on the warpath.” He didn’t meet his wife’s eyes as he spoke, ignoring her glare.

“Dad, Hermione and I are perfectly capable of protecting ourselves. We were in Dumbledore’s Army after all.” George turned to look at Hermione and winked before turning back to his parents.

“Yes, Mr. Weasley. We will be fine. We will put up protective charms if need be. I will be very careful. If it makes you feel any better, I will send an owl each day to keep you updated. We will be okay. I promise.”

•••  
Several hours later Hermione and George pulled their trunks into the sitting room. They had spent the morning packing their belongings into their trunks. Hermione’s patented extension spell had been cast over the vessels, and their possessions fit nicely into each.

“Now, we will meet you both at the shop sometime after noon,” Mrs. Weasley pulled Hermione and George into a tight hug before heading to the fireplace. “We won’t stay long. Just want to leave a spot of food for you.” With that, she waved at the pair of them and disappeared into the green flames that had erupted there.

“You ready Granger?” George grabbed her hand. “Hold on tight, little Canary.” They snapped away from the living room, and before she even had time to blink, they were standing outside of the brightly colored shop. She smiled at the use of his nickname for her. The Canary Creams were her favorite of his inventions.

“Well… here we are.” George looked unsure as he pointed his wand at the door, and pushed it open. Though it was rather dark, it looked much as it had before. There was a thin layer of dust covering the store, and several spiderwebs hung from the ceiling. He had yet to let go of her hand. “C’mon, let me show you the flat.” George lead her through the shelves, careful to not bump into a shelf full of Decoy Detonators.

They came to a door in the back of the shop. Upon opening it, there was a narrow hallway made up of a staircase, covered in a soft olive-colored carpet. Hermione wondered how their trunks would fit up the stairs, but George must have seen the look on her face.

“It may look small, but it is quite accommodating.” He let go of her hand and grabbed the strap of her trunk, and began making her way up the staircase. The hallway seemed to expand to allow him to fit. Tentatively, she took a step. The staircase seemed barely big enough for her, but with each step she took, it seemed to get wider and wider. Hermione reached both of her arms out and her fingertips barely grazed the walls. When she reached the top, the girl turned and looked behind her. The stairs had shrunk back to their original size.

George pushed open the door on the landing and dropped both trunks to the floor with a heavy thud. “Well, this is it, sorry for the mess. I haven't exactly had time to do much cleaning.” He gestured around the room. The kitchen was sparse and the sitting area was full of cushy pillows and a soft-looking blue couch. “Right this way my lady, I will show you to your room.” George gestured for her to follow him down the hallway. “Fred and I shared a room, this one was ours.” He pointed at the door on the left. There was a sign on the door that read Gred and Forge. “This,” He gestured door on the right, “This is the spare bedroom. It was going to be Lee’s but… but after the war…” he trailed off, arms crossed. Lee Jordan was a bright and rowdy Gryffindor boy who was in the same year as the twins. He had survived the battle of Hogwarts but had not been in much contact with his friends. Last they had heard, he was heading to New York City with his parents and grandfather, for a change of scenery.

“Well George,” said Hermione, putting her hand on his forearm. “I was thinking that I could sleep with you.” She looked up into his tired eyes and smiled. “I know that this all happening rather fast, but now that we are alone, I thought we could…” It was Hermione’s turn to stop mid-sentence.

“Say no more. I’d like that very much.” George looked down at Hermione and put his arms around her. “Let’s unpack, huh? Gotta get the place cleaned up.” Though there was a smile on his face, his eyes seemed dim and empty. Hermione tried to ignore the lump in her throat.

•••  
“There. That should just about do it.” Hermione closed the bottom drawer of the dresser and stood, placing her hands on her hips. She looked around the room. They had spent the remainder of the day putting away their belongings and cleaning up the apartment.

“Looks great Mione,” George said, flopping down on his bed. “What do you say that we get some dinner? I’m starving.”

“What do you feel like having?” Hermione asked him, sitting next to the boy. George seemed oddly reserved.

“I’m not sure” He flopped back and put his hands behind his head, linking his fingers together.

“I could make a grilled cheese for you. I was telling you about them… they are really simple to make. Perfect for a quick meal.” She offered weakly.

“Do you have the proper ingredients?” George asked her, reaching out to rub her back.

“No, but they are easy enough to get. Would you like to go with me? There is a market that my parents used to go to. They have all the ingredients there. Plus, its open twenty-four hours a day.”

“A muggle market? Sounds like a grand adventure to me.” George sprung to his feet and pulled Hermione up off the bed. “Before we go though…” He twirled her around and pulled her close to him. “I want a kiss. I’ve been waiting to taste those lips all day.” He cupped her face and traced the outline of her lips with his thumb. He swooped low and placed a soft kiss on her lips. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck. George’s tongue managed hers, as he reached down passed her hips and gave her bum a quick squeeze. She giggled and pulled them both into thin air with a loud crack.

They appeared behind a bush outside of Safeliplin Way. “Well, this is it,” Hermionie said looking up at the boy, and then down to the front of his tented corduroys. Her eyes flicked back up to his eyes, as she licked her lips and wiggled her eyebrows.

“Sorry Mione. I just can’t help it.” He winked, and Hermione grabbed his hand and dragged him towards the entrance, not even bothering to muggle her giggles. Come on, we should get a cart!”

The lights of the store were bright as the shopping cart squeaked along the isles. George stopped often to look at all the food on the shelves. He had picked up a bottle of brightly colored soda. “What is this? It looks like juice from a dirigible plum.”

She giggled. “It’s orange soda!! Put it in the cart! You’d like it.” He eyed it uneasily and gingerly put the bottle in the rolling basket.

When they had neared the checkout line, Hermione looked at George. Do you want to get anything else?”

“I don't think so? I’m not used to all of this muggle food.” He whispered.

Hermione rolled her eyes, and put the items on the conveyor belt, placing them all carefully so they fit like a real-life game of Tetris. After the bags were filled, and she had paid the clerk, George and Hermione made their way back to the bushes each carrying a brown paper bag.

“You ready?” George turned his head to smile at her. She grabbed his hand, and they spun on the spot and landed directly into the sitting room of George’s flat.

“Well, that was fun. Muggles sure do live interesting lives, don’t they?” George said, flopping down on the couch.

“They don’t live that differently than we do.” Hermione put the bags on the counter as she unloaded them. “I am going to put this all away if you don’t mind.” She turned to the enchanted ice chest and placed the soda, strawberries, whipped cream, cheese, wine, and other perishables onto the shelves. Cold air wafted out and stung the tip of her nose. Next, she put the cereal, and bread into a cabinet, along with a box of tea and crisps.

“If you wait for a little while, you can try the soda. It’s much better when it’s cold.” She turned to the sink to wash and dry her hands.

“Mione, what’s this?” George was holding Hermione’s polaroid camera. She had placed it on the table in the living room next to a small stack of books. He held it up to his face and looked into the lens. “Odd sort of thing isn’t it?”

She giggled. “It’s a camera. It works just like the magical ones, but when you click the shutter button, the picture comes out of that slit there.” She walked over to him and took the camera from his hands. “I’ll put some film in it and show you. But first, I’m going to put on my PJs. I’ll be right back.” Hermione made her way to the bedroom and flicked her wand at the lamps. They flickered on, sending warm light over the room.

Hermione placed the camera on the bed and walked to the dresser. Hermione pulled out a black t-shirt and a pair of cotton shorts and tossed them onto the bed. She stripped down, pulling her undergarments off and placing them all in a small pile at the foot of the bed.

After she had redressed in her clean pajamas, Hermione loaded the camera with film and walked back to the living room. George had kicked his shoes off and was leaning back into the cushions, a book open on his lap. His feet rested on the coffee table, and the tip of his big toe was peeking out of a hole in his mismatched socks. She brought the camera up to her face. When she looked through the viewfinder, she centered it and pushed down on the shutter button.

George looked up at her and smiled, and she quickly pushed down the button again. Two pictures shot out of the bottom of the camera, and Hermione grabbed them both before the fell to the floor. “See, these are the pictures I just took.” Hermione sat next to George and showed him the pictures.

“But they’re just grey.” George looked at the photographs and frowned. He looked back at the book, ‘100 Jokes to Tell Wizards’.

“Look again!” Hermione said excitedly. She held the photo up to George and as he looked, the color began to spread over the film.

“Woah, that’s incredible!” He pulled the pictures from her fingers and looked at the back and then the front of them again.

“They don’t move like wizard’s pictures do, but still. I think it’s cool.”

“They are rather odd, but I like them!”

“I’m so glad! I think I am going to get the soda now. I’ll get you a glass.” Hermione got up from the couch and made her way into the kitchen.

“Okay, love. Thank you.” George stood up and followed her into the kitchen, flipping on the small radio on the counter. Soft old-timey jazz crackled through the speakers.

“May I have this dance.” George bowed and extended his hand to her. Hermione grinned and put the lid back onto the two-liter bottle before taking his hand. He led her into the living room and began dancing with her, mimicking the moves that they had been taught by Professor McGonagall several years previously.

“You’re a very good dancer,” she said, looking up into his eyes.

“You sound surprised, Mione.” He said placing a soft kiss on her forehead. “I never got the chance to dance with you at the Yule Ball, so this seemed like a perfect opportunity.”

“You wanted to dance with me at the Ball?” She asked.

“Of course I did. Every bloke wanted to have a dance with you. Even some of the Slytherins.” He chuckled. “ Now I guess I know why Katie was looking at you the way she was.” He winked down at her before pulling her into a tight hug.

She rolled her eyes and stood on her tiptoes to kiss George’s chin before pulling away. “Here, try this!” She walked to the counter and handed George a soda filled glass, and watched as he took a sip.

“Merlin’s Beard! This is great!” He said as he took a deep pull from the glass. “What’s it called again?”

“Orange soda. They make many flavors though, not just fruit.” Hermione took a small sip from her own cup and watched as George made his way over to the couch, sipping on his fizzy drink.

Hermione busied herself in the small kitchen. She took a small pan And placed it on the stove, and got out the necessary ingredients to make her favorite kind of grilled cheese. Mayonnaise instead of butter, and bread and butter pickles inside with the cheese. She worked over the stove, stopping only to pull her hair back from her pale face. George walked into the kitchen and leaned against the counter, pouring himself another glass of soda.

•••  
“It’s ready!” She chirped, turning around with a towering plate of grilled cheese. “If you’d pour me another glass, that would be nice. I’ll take this to the table.” The sandwiches were all perfectly grilled. Each side of the bread was evenly toasted, and the cheese was soft and gooey on the inside. Hermione was an expert at following directions, so cooking and baking had always been very easy for her. She enjoyed cooking while she was at home with her family during the holidays, and was very happy to be able to cook again.

“Anything for my girlfriend.” He smirked, nudging her with his hip as he came to the table to join her.

“Am I?” She asked, looking up at him through her eyelashes. “Am I your girlfriend?”

“I reckon so, Granger.” George had sit in one of the chairs and grabbed a sandwich off the top of the pile. “I mean do you want to be?” He sniffed the bread before taking a giant bite. His eyes rolled back in his head as he slumped back against the wood of his chair. “This is so good. Absolutely marvelous.”

“Are you asking because you want to know, or because you’re being formal?” Hermione took a sandwich for herself and brought it to her lips.

“When have I ever been formal, Mione?” He smiled at her and winked. “But if you must know, I am indeed asking you if you would officially be mine.” He picked up another sandwich before taking another drink from his glass.

“Of course I’ll be your girlfriend.” Hermione blushed such a deep shade of crimson that if Mrs. Weasley had been there to see it, she could have knit her a matching sweater.  
•••  
“What do you want to do tomorrow?” George asked. Hermione sat on the counter in the bathroom with her toothbrush in her mouth, as George pulled his shirt over his head, and turned the water on in the small shower.

“I haven’t really thought about it.” She answered, “What’s on your mind?”

“What?! Miss Hermione Granger hasn’t made a plan yet?” He feigned shock.

“Oh sod off,” Hermione turned her head and spit the toothpaste into the sink, and dropped the toothbrush into the cup on the counter. “I was thinking that we could do some cleaning. You know, in the shop.”

“We’ve been cleaning all afternoon Mione.” He whined, pulling off his pants and boxers. “Come on, join me in the shower. We can clean ourselves tonight, and work on the other stuff again tomorrow.” George pulled Hermione off the counter and wrapped his arms around her.

“That sounds perfectly lovely.” She said into his chest. George began to pull her into the shower. “But I’m still dressed!” She giggled, pulling away from him. “George, I’m getting wet!”

He laughed and pushed her under the faucet. “Wet water?! What in blazes will you do?!” Hermione splashed water at George and peeled her clothes off and dropped them outside of the shower.

“You’re impossible.” She huffed and crossed her arms, moving past the redhead to allow him to have time in the water.

“You love it.” He poked her ribs and then ran his hands through his hair, tipping his face back into the spray of the faucet, eyes closed. Hermione gaped at his physique. George was long, lean, and muscular. All those years of playing quidditch, and going for runs around The Burrow had paid off quite nicely. She stepped forward and pressed her hands against his stomach. Now that she could see his body in the bright light of the bathroom as opposed to flickering candlelight, she had a lot to look at. Her fingers explored his skin. She let her fingers run over his abs and lingered over his ribs. They trailed along his hip bones, and up his sides. Her hand ran down the side of his neck and shoulders, and down his arms, feeling the veins that lived right beneath the skin.

“Mione, what are you doing?” He looked down at her.

“Oh, nothing. Nothing at all.” She tore her eyes away from his skin, and inched around him into the water, and began to wash her hair. Hermione tried to ignore the warmth that was welling up from beneath her toes. George was perfect. Everything about him was beautiful and she couldn’t even deny it. Who would have thought that one day she would be in love with George Weasley? A smile crept across her lips and she turned to face the spray of the shower.

“Here, let me help.” She could feel George’s hands lightly caress her skin as massaged soap into her back and shoulders. Fingers making small circles, and drawing maps of the earth and stars onto the canvas of her skin. The bubbles swirled into the drain as she turned to him.

Hermione opened her mouth, but no words came out. She just stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. “Now we are both soapy.” She managed to say, around a yawn.

“That we are, love. That we are. What’s say we get rinsed off, and head to bed?” George held her at arm's length and cupped her face in his hands.

“But I’m not even tired,” Hermione said looking up at him. “I wanted to read a little.”

“And you can do just that in bed with me.” He said, standing under the water and then stepping out of the spray of water. Hermione followed suit picking up the towel that George had laid out for her. “It’s so warm.” She said, wrapping the towel around her snugly.

“Well, of course, it is. You didn’t think that I’d just let you freeze, did you?” He tied his towel tightly around his waist and opened the bathroom door. Steam rolled into the cool hallway, and Hermione was very glad that the floor was carpeted. She followed George into his room and watched as he sat on the bed.

“I wish wizards had TVs...Televisions.” She said as she sat on the opposite side of the bed.

“What’s a television?” George turned to look at her. She was not facing him, but she could feel his eyes on the back of her head.

She stood up, dried herself off, and placed the towel on the end of the bed. “It’s hard to explain, really. Its a box, and it has a screen. The box receives broadcasting signals through an antenna or a satellite, and those turn the signals into pictures and sound. Maybe tomorrow we can go back to London. I’ll show you what they are.” She pulled a pair of knickers up her thighs and dressed in her pajamas. They were red and gold and covered in little white owls. Harry had given her a pair for Christmas one year, along with a stuffed cat that looked a lot like Crookshanks, who was still chasing gnomes at The Burrow.

“Muggle London?” George asked, discarding the towel and climbing beneath the sheets still naked. “Could be fun. You can show me all of the places that you and Ginny visited.”

She smiled as she picked up her plush kitty, and climbed into bed beside him. “We don’t have to… London… tomorrow.” Before she could finish her thought, she drifted off into sleep.

George only smiled as he wrapped an arm around her and allowed himself to join her in the silver, sparkling effervescence that carried them both to the clouds in dreamland.

•••  
_Screams erupted around her, as bright green light flashed around the room. Hermione woke with a start and threw the covers off of herself before grabbing her wand and throwing herself out of bed. She fled through the door that lead to the common room and then ran from the portrait hole. More flashes appeared around every corner. She skittered into the corridor and saw that Lavender Brown was dangling from the jaws of Greyback. Hermione screamed and ran towards the girl, but Harry and Ron appeared at her side and pulled her back. She turned to follow them, but as soon as she saw their faces, she lost them in the crowd. Looking left and right, Hermione ran and ran, but she still couldn’t find her friends. Unfamiliar faces swam before her, as she passed fighting warriors, armed only with their wands. She took a sharp left turn into the Great Hall. Bellatrix stood there, pointing her wand at Hermione. She turned to run, but the doors to the great hall slammed shut._

_“Avada Kedavra!” The woman shrieked, sending the unforgivable curse directly at Hermione’s heart._

_Hermione was paralyzed with fear, and though she waited, death did not come. She turned to run away but there were at least 100 Belletrixes now, all circling the room, swooping down on her. The scar on her arm seared with pain as she ran from side to side trying to escape. They were advancing upon the girl as quickly as they had appeared._

_She narrowly dodged the Cruciatus curse, as it whizzed over her head. There was a gap in the increasing number of lieutenants, and she darted through it, out of the giant wooden doors and right into the dining room inside of Malfoy Manor. “No… please no.” She whimpered backing up._

_The manor faded from view as she once again found herself in the middle of the Great Hall. Hermione stumbled backward and fell. Upon looking at what had caused her to trip, she saw her own body lying bloody and broken on the floor. She gasped and scrambled to her feet and looked around the room. Bodies were strewn across the floor. Harry, Ron, Ginny, her mother and father, Mrs. Weasley, Fred, Parvati, and Professor McGonagall all lay dead on the stone-cold floor. Everywhere she looked, she could see a new corpse. Draco Malfoy lay face down, next to his fallen parents, and Professor Flitwick fell where he stood, eyes as empty as she felt. Oliver Wood was next to him, wand in one hand, beater’s bat in the other. His eyes were open, and she could see one last tear fall down his cheek._

_“Save me. Please. Help me.” He groaned._

_Before she could move, he had shriveled up into nothing, and in the place where his body had been, lay a pile of scarlet robes, from which a golden snitch flew out and flitted out of a broken window. Hermione looked around._

_“Harry! Ron!” She shrieked, running over to them. Hermione shook them and begged for them both to wake up, but it was no use. They were just as lifeless as her own body seemed to be. “What do I do?” She asked herself, quietly. “What am I supposed to do?!”_

_When she looked up, Hermione saw George sitting at one of the long house tables, with his head on the table, resting in his arms. “George!” She almost screamed. She ran to him. “George, wake up. The war… we have to hide.” Hermione rubbed his back and looked around the room, watching for any signs of Bellatrix. “George! Wake up!” She shook his shoulder._

_“He can’t hear you, Granger.” Hermione looked up quickly, startled at the sound. She hadn’t heard anyone approach the table. “Fred! Help me wake your brother up. We have to go. Harry and Ron are gone.” Fred sat across from her, still and unmoving. She was starting to get desperate. “Fred now isn’t the time for jokes. We’ve got t…”_

_“He can’t hear you because he’s dead… and so are you, sis.” A smile crept across his face. “I’m dead too. Died just a few minutes ago. We’ve all died Hermione.” His smile widened and twisted into an evil, blackened grimace. Black and matted hair sprouted from his scalp, covering his red hair. His body seemed to shrink and transform. “We all died because of you!” His voice was shrill and feminine. Bellatrix sat before her, exactly where Fred had been._

_“No… no!” She turned to George and shook him once more. “ Please wake up! I’m so scared, please wake up.” George stirred and lifted his head. His hair was long and dark, and his voice dripped with Malice._

_“How dare you speak to me, you filthy little Mudblood!” The table was full of Bellatrixes. Each spot was filled with a clone. As the one that came from George spoke, another flash of green light flooded her sight. The smell of blood and death filled her nostrils. Screams filled her ears, as she spun deeper and deeper into the ground, waiting for the moment that death would finally abduct her from this living world. Eons passed and she could still see the green light, but yet she was still alive._

_Hermione stirred, and scrunched up her face. The metallic scent lingered in her nose. Was this what dying felt like? Was it this painless? Maybe the war was pointless. If they were fighting this, maybe it was better to give in. It wasn’t so bad._

“Hermione!” A voice shone through the light. “Hermione!” She ignored it. She was almost home. She was almost at the embrace of her parents. Almost to Harry and Ron. Just a few more moments and she’d be with Fred and George and the rest of the Weasleys. All she had to do was make it to the doors of the beyond.

“Hermione! Wake up!” George jostled her, gripping her shoulders tightly. Hermione blinked the sleep from her eyes, and George’s came into view. Sunlight filtered through the green curtains and sent ribbons of colored light dancing across her face.

“George?” Hermione sat up quickly. “George!” She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed tightly. “You’re alright!” She blinked back tears and kissed his cheek before kissing him fully on the lips.

“Course I’m alright.” He said around a mouthful of toast. “What did you expect.” He laughed, and put the piece of toast into Hermione’s mouth and allowed her to take a bite.

“Do you smell that?” Hermione asked, looking around the room. “It smells like pennies.”

“What’s pennies?” George asked her, stuffing the last of the toast into his mouth. “Mione, You’re bleeding!” He grabbed her arm and pulled it towards him. In her sleep, she had scratched her scar, opening up the scabbed slur that lived on her arm.

‘That’s what the smell was’ She thought to herself.

“Oh,” She breathed, as a tear escaped from her eye. “George?” Her voice wavered, as tears streamed down her face. She flung her arms around him and sobbed as the memory of the dream played back in her mind.

“What’s the matter?” He asked the sobbing girl. “Hermione, tell me what’s wrong.” He held her close and stroked her hair.

Hermione told George all about the dream. She told him about Bellatrix, and about how Fred spoke to her. When she got to the part where she had seen the bodies, including her own, she couldn’t help but wail. “I’m just so scared still. I can’t lose anyone else. You all are all I have left. Your family and Harry are all I have and I just can’t bear to think about losing anyone else that I love.” She wiped at her face with her stuffie. “I just don’t want to lose you. Not ever.”

“You will never lose me.” He stood up and extended his hand to her. “Come, let's go get that arm cleaned up. We have some dittany here somewhere.” Hermione took his hand and allowed him to lead her to the bathroom.

As he worked on healing her arm, he did his best to distract her from her dream, by explaining how he made the Canary Creams and told her about his plan on making a brand new product that was capable of changing the hair color of whoever consumed the sweet. “I was thinking about all the colors that would be the most popular. Aquamarine, royal blue, sunshine yellow, pink, and purple.” He winked at her. “A little canary once asked if I had anything to turn her hair purple, so that’s the first color I’ll make.” He wrapped her forearm in a piece of white cloth. “Well, that should do it! Let’s go get breakfast. I’ll make you something.”

“Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow… turn this stupid fat rat yellow.” She whispered, the memory of Harry and Ron sitting in the cart on their first train ride dried her eyes, and brought a small smile to her lips.

•••  
The sausages sizzled as George cracked two eggs into the frying pan. Toast flew out of the magical toaster and buttered themselves before coming to rest on Hermione’s plate. “What kind of jam would you like, my dear?” George asked her, as he flipped the bangers over and fidgeted with the eggs.

“Raspberry, please?”

“Your wish is my command.” George shoveled the contents of the pan onto Hermione’s plate and spread a thick layer of jam over the toast. “Here you go. Eat up.” He placed the plate down in front of her, and with a flick of his wand, the kitchen began to clean itself up.

“Thank you. Breakfast is really good.” She said. “I was thinking… we could go get coffee and go to Flourish and Blotts. I know I said something about cleaning, but I’d rather just spend time with you. Besides… we’re wizards. after all. We can let the shop clean itself.” She smiled in spite of herself. She usually liked to do her chores by hand, to ensure that they were done properly. But perhaps that part of her had died back at the castle. She had been much more lax about things lately and was perfectly content with just being around those she cared about most. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Churned this one out quickly. Hope you like it. As always, kudos make the story go faster! Bookmark this so you'll never miss a chapter. Thanks, and happy reading!

The shop had just closed after a particularly successful Friday, Hermione was sweeping the floor behind the register as George added up the total sales for the day.   
The shop had been open for a week, and the days were busy. Products flew off the shelves faster than they could be restocked. Temporary tattoos of playful animals and BowHair Sours found their way into the hands of everyone who visited. The shop was whizzing through Skiving Snack Boxes, Canary Creams, and Decoy Detonators. George and Hermione barely had time to take a breath.

“Hey, Mione?” George said, scratching at a piece of parchment with a bright ochre quill. “I was thinking that we could take the weekend off.” He yawned, and covered his mouth, smearing a streak of ink across his cheek. 

“What would you like to do this weekend then?” Hermione locked the door and flicked her wand, extinguishing all the lights in the shop. 

“Nothing at all. I just want to lie around in varying degrees of undress, and eating chicken lips.” George stood from the small desk and stretched. The sleeves of his pink button-down shirt were rolled up his forearms, and Hermione couldn’t help but long to feel those strong arms around her. “Cmon, let’s go upstairs” He took her hand, and lead her up the staircase and into the flat. 

“What a week.” Hermione huffed, flopping down on her knees, and lying face down on the living room floor. “Ifs wub sp buffrd,” she mumbled, voice muffled by the rug. “I’b sp fired.” 

“What are you saying over there?” Asked George, a smile playing at the corner of his lips as he pulled a plate of fruit from the fridge.

“I said…” Hermione turned over onto her back and sat up to remove her sweater. “That it was busy and that I am tired.” She balled it up and threw it onto the couch. Hermione stood and made her way over to George who was popping grapes into his mouth. “Let's go relax in bed, aye?” 

“Nothing would make me happier.” He said, following her down the hallway, platter still in hand.

She quickly pulled the covers back and flopped down on the sheets. “Are you gonna join me/?” She asked him, as he stood leaning against the doorframe, looking at her. 

“Of course I am. Am I not allowed to take in your beauty?” He placed the plate on the table next to the bed, before stripping down to his boxers, and joining her in bed. She cuddled up next to him and rested her cheek on his chest. 

“It was a successful week. I am so proud of how well you're doing.” She said throwing a stockinged leg over his. “I mean, you built this place from the ground up, and all these inventions… you really are brilliant. You could take over the world if you wanted to.” Hermione reached over him and grabbed a handful of blackberries, and tipped them into her mouth.   
George turned his head to look at her. The juice from the blackberries had stained her lips, and the freckles that lived on her nose stood out, like a map of the stars. 

“I love you, Mione.” He kissed her, tasting the sweetness on her tongue. 

“I love you too.” She whispered. “I love you. 

George pulled her shirt over her head and helped her wriggle out of her pants. They twisted and turned in the sheets, giggling and exploring each other’s bodies with tender kisses, and whispers of fingertips. Hours passed, but to them, it seemed like only seconds. 

Hermione reached over George to grab more fruit. She hadn’t eaten much that day, and the crisp coolness of the strawberry pile seemed all too inviting. “Mmmm…” she closed her eyes. “These are so good.” She said, taking a bite of the unusually large strawberry. 

“I’m sure it is.” George took it from her fingers and kissed her lips, humming softly. “So sweet.” He placed the strawberry against her lips and then her chin. George then pressed it against the patch of skin behind her ear and dragged it down her neck and along her shoulder. He traced her collarbone. Hermione’s eyes fluttered closed, as George rubbed the fruit down over her chest and traced the outline of her breasts and stomach. He traced a line on her hips and down to where her slit began. He popped the rest of the strawberry into his mouth and attached his lips to her neck. 

Tenderly, George kissed and licked the sticky red juice, moving his mouth slowly across her body. His tongue tangoed with the flavor of the strawberry on her milky white skin. “I love you” he whispered against her ribs. “I love you so much, Hermione.” The wizard worked his way down her torso and tasted the sweetness between her thighs. “You taste so sweet.” He moaned, pulling the sheets over them as he came back to her face and kissed her lips. 

Hermione dug her nails into George’s back and tilted her head back into the pillows. His name tumbled from her lips in silent breaths as she rocked her hips up into his thrusts. His fists balled up, gripping the fitted sheet tightly and moaning. The sound sent a shiver through her body and hurriedly, George pulled out of her, sending hot ropes of white onto her stomach and chest.

George collapsed next to her. “Bloody hell Hermione.” She breathed, running his hand through his hair. “You drive me mad.”   
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” She smiled and grabbed her wand. “Evanesco.” She whispered, vanishing the mess from her skin.” The blankets were soft against her bare skin as she flopped back into bed. “Would you like me to make dinner for you? You can eat in bed and relax. After all, you deserve it.” Normally, eating in bed was just about as abhorrent to her as dog-earing books, but being with George made her want to be free. She wanted to bend the rules, push boundaries, and throw herself into the unknown. She had always clung to the code of rules, but now she wanted to make her own, just for the thrill of breaking them.

“Eating in bed? Who are you and what have you done with Hermione Granger?” He nudged her with his shoulder before suddenly flipping over and straddling her hips, and pinning her down under his weight. He began tickling her, and giggling madly as she shrieked and thrashed beneath him. “I had no idea that you were so ticklish, Mione.” George swatted her hands away as he continued to tickle her ribs. 

“Stoooop!” She shrieked, tears forming in her eyes from the laughter. “George!” 

“You’re so cute,” He said, stilling himself and looking down at her, his eyes soft. “You make me really happy, ya know that?” He sighed and collapsed next to her once again. 

“George, I was thinking…” Hermione said, stirring in the sheets that she was tangled in. “We should be using some sort of protection here. I should pick up some condoms or something.” She twirled her hair around her fingers, examining the split ends. 

“Condom’s?” He asked, getting up and stretching before heading to the door. “I think I am going to get some of that soda stuff. Would you like some?” 

“That would be lovely.” She smiled and turned to watch him pull on a pair of pants and walk out of the door. 

Hermione spotted the camera sitting on the bedside table and picked it up. Carefully, she held the camera up and over her head, the lens facing her. She adjusted the position, and then pushed the shutter button. With a click and whirr, the firm popped out of the bottom and fell onto her chest. She took another picture, and then another. Then several more after that, turning her head in different angles or closing her eyes. 

She put the camera back, and then pushed the pictures under the pillow when she heard him coming back down the hallway. 

“A cup for you, m’lady.” George walked in and handed Hermione a glass of orange soda. “We’re out though. This was the last of the bottle.” He carefully sat on the edge of the bed. 

“We can go to Tesco again and we will get as much as you want.” She sat up, still tangled in the sheets. “I’m starving. Are you hungry at all?” Hermione sipped her drink slowly, savoring the bubbles that were dancing on her tongue. 

“I’m right famished.” He put his empty glass on the bedside table. 

“I’m going to go get us dinner. You stay here, and ill be right back. Make a list of all the things we need to do on Monday, and ill be back before you know it.” She hopped up to get dressed. “Mind if I borrow this?” She asked as she pulled George’s pink button down on, and tucked it into her waistband. It was too big, but the color complimented her skin nicely. 

“Sure thing, love.” George watched her as she shuffled around until she had found her shoes and socks. Her hair fell into her face as she flicked her wand at the door. A small coin purse flew into the room and into her outstretched hand. He was glad to have this weekend off, and if making a list of work would keep him from doing any real work, he would do it a hundred times over. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you? I really don’t mind.” 

“No, no. Please just stay here. Let me surprise you!” She swooped down, kissed him, and apperated quickly. 

George flopped back down on the bed and picked up a pillow to fluff it. When his hand brushed against the smooth surface of the pictures, he pulled them out from their resting place and looked through them. There were at least seven of them, each one more different than the last. He smiled as his heart filled with warmth. George stood propped the stack of pictures up on the dresser. Making a mental note to take a few to put on his desk in his office downstairs.

•••  
After a quick trip to Tesco, Hermione made her way into the crowded restaurant and asked for a menu. George’s shirt smelled like him, and she smiled knowing that he would be there waiting for her. 

“I think I’m ready to order,” She said, flagged down a waitress. 

“Sure thing, dear. What can I get you?” She said smiling. Her yellow eyes shone brightly, as she pulled out a pen and notepad. 

“Could I get the 30 piece party pack, it will be to-go,” Hermione asked. 

“Of course! That’s such a good choice! You get six trays of wings that have five each of your chosen flavors.” She said, gesturing at Hermione’s menu, pointing at the list of sauces. “What flavors were you thinking of today?” 

‘Hmmm…” Hermione read through the list. “How about classic buffalo sauce, sweet onion teriyaki, lemon pepper, honey barbeque, Asian chili, annnnd…” she frantically tried to pick one last flavor. “And… the honey mustard.” 

Great choices! That’s what I’d order! I’ll add a free batch of our classic crunch wings as well. Your order will be out in a flash. Let me bring you a drink while you wait. Don’t worry, the drink is on the house.” She winked at Hermione and motioned for her to sit in a cushy booth to wait. 

Before she knew it, the smiling waitress had set a tall glass in front of Hermione. Here you go! It’s a Roy Rogers! Enjoy, and I’ll be right back with your order!” The witch sipped on her drink and looked around the restaurant. Couples sat across from each other at tables, sipping on their drinks, and eating their dinner. They all seem so detached from each other, as they watched the large TVs. If she were there with George, they’d be sitting together, laughing and talking and enjoying each other’s company. 

“Here you go! Your order is ready. I’ve included some napkins and some celery for you. I hope you enjoy!” The waitress had returned, placing the bag on the table in front of Hermione. The witch looked up and dug in her purse and pulled out some cash, handing it to the waitress. 

“Keep the change. Thank you very much!” Hermione walked into the parking lot and to a dark spot just behind the building and apperated into the bedroom. 

“I’m home!” She sang out, spinning on the spot. George was sitting at his desk working on a list and trying not to smear the purple ink on the page. “George?” She set the bag and her purse on the bed and walked up to his chair and put her hands on his shoulders. “I have dinner!” 

“Hey love, let me just finish this one liiiine…” The word was drawn out as he finished scrawling. “There. Done,” He stood up and turned to her. 

“Come, let’s eat.” She smiled, and grabbed the bag off the bed and lead him to the kitchen. 

“What did you get?” He asked, sitting at the table. 

“Food, clearly.” Hermione giggled, setting the bag on the table and pulling her purse over her head and hanging it on her chair. “Here.” She opened the bag and pulled out the boxes, placing them in the center of the table. 

“Oohhh, are these chicken lips?” George inhaled deeply. “Smells amazing!” 

“Buffalo wings, George. Buffalo wings.” She shook her head as she brought two plated and some napkins to that table. 

“Go on and tuck in.” She said, helping herself to some of the honey bbq and the honey mustard wings. 

“Which should I try first?” George looked at each small tray. He grabbed a celery stick and took a big bite of it. 

“You should try the classic ones! Buffalo sauce is the bright orange one. Try dipping them in this.” She handed him a small cup of ranch dressing. “It's good.” With that, Hermione began to munch away on her wings, refilling her plate every few minutes.

“Bloody hell!” George exclaimed. “These are amazing!” He loaded one of each onto his plate. 

Hermione summoned two cups from the kitchen and pulled a bottle of lemon-lime soda from the paper bag under the table. “Here’s a new bottle of soda for you as well. It should go well with dinner.” She poured some in each glass and replaced the cap. 

“This has to be the best dinner I’ve ever had, Hermione.” He pulled more wings towards him and wiped his mouth on a napkin. “Thank you so much.” He smiled at her from across the table. 

•••  
“Thank you again, Mione,” George said, as he rinsed off their plates. “Tomorrow, you should let me make breakfast for you. I’ll feed it to you in bed. Then we can go on a nice walk down Diagon Alley. I hear there is a sale at Flourish and Blotts.”

“That sounds lovely, George.” She finished clearing the table and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Let's go back to the bedroom, huh?” 

“Trying to bed me again?” He winked down at her and winked. 

“Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir? Voulez-vous coucher avec moi?” She sang out, releasing George and traipsing down the hallway, grabbing the bag as she went. “Come on, George!” She giggled. 

They both flopped down on the bed, giggling and trying to regain their composure. 

“Buffalo lips are my favorite food now. I can’t wait to try the next thing on your list.” He turned to her and pulled her closer to him. “I think that Fred would have liked them too. He is… or was the fan off egg salad though. Maybe we can make that tomorrow?” 

“Sure thing. I can make a bunch of sandwiches and we can go visit Harry, Ron, and Ginny at Hogwarts? How about that?” She knew that she sounded unsure, but she missed her friends and thought that it may do George some good to get out for a bit. 

“Alright. I do suppose that we could pop over to the castle. I want to see if Filch will consider giving back all the stuff he confiscated from us while we were at school.” A thin smile played at his lips as he remembered all the time he and Fred got caught with contraband. 

“I’m sure he wouldn’t. You weren’t supposed to have those things, George. It goes against at least 40 school rules.” 

“But Hermione, I’m an adult now. He can’t keep our things from us forever.” 

“But he can, can’t he!” She rolled her eyes. “There are things in that office that date back to the beginning of the school’s opening.” 

“We’ll see. What’s in that bag Mione?” He asked, pointing at the bag at the foot of the bed. 

“Oh! I almost forgot!” She sat up long enough to grab the bag and remove its contents. “Here.” She placed a small box on his chest and stood up. 

“What are these?” 

“Condoms. Being safe is important.” She stripped off her pants and stood there in George’s pink button-down and her white socks. He opened the box and pulled out several foil squares. 

“You look good like that. Maybe you should wear my clothes more often.” George stuffed the foil back into the box and threw it aside as Hermione unbuttoned the shirt, and dropped it onto the floor before pulling off her socks and climbing back into bed. 

“I’ll wear whatever you want me to.” She said, cuddling up next to him. “Tomorrow though. I’m tired.” 

“Goodnight, Canary.” He kissed her forehead and held her close. 

“Love you, George.” Hermione yawned and buried her face in her chest. 

“Forever?” He asked, closing his eyes. 

“And a day.”


	7. Chapter 7

Hermione woke up the next morning to the sound of rain and distant thunder. George had rolled to the other side of the bed, his bright copper hair sticking out at odd angles against the pillow. 

She pushed herself out of bed and pulled his shirt back on and shoved her feet into her socks before tiptoeing out of the room, and heading to the kitchen. 

Hermione looked around the dark kitchen and with a flick of her wand, filled the room with light. She turned on the small wireless radio. For the first time since before the war, she was more or less alone. She grabbed the broom from the far corner and began to sweep the floor, dancing around the room. As far as Hermione was concerned, the broom was actually a microphone and the floor a stage. She laughed to herself as she copied the dance she saw from Risky Business, one of her favorite muggle movies. 

The witch slid across the floor with her socks and lip-synced into the broom handle, then played it like a guitar. She dropped it to the floor, jumped onto the couch, and kicked her feet in the air madly. Hermione pressed her hand to her mouth to stop herself from giggling. The house shook as a loud clap of thunder exploded in the sky and jumped up, only to see Geroge standing in the doorway of the kitchen, camera in hand. He held several photos between his bicep and his ribs, as a new film fell from the camera. 

“Moooorning.” He said, winking at her. “Quite energetic aren’t you?” 

“I just love the rain,” She confessed. “It’s my favorite.”

“You’re not thinking of flying again are you?” George asked, taking a final picture of her. 

“No, of course not.” The shirt was falling off of Hermione’s shoulder, and it had been buttoned incorrectly. She huffed and turned to walk across the living room, and threw the window open. 

Hermione leaned her head out and closed her eyes, as the rain collected in her hair. She couldn’t see through the thick fog, but she wondered if it was raining where her friends were too. George took one final picture of her and left the small pile of photographs on the counter next to the camera.

•••  
“George, could you put that piece of bacon in my mouth?” Hermione called out as she duplicated the number of eggs still boiling on the stove. “My hands are too full.” Hair fell in her eyes, as she mixed a bowl of egg salad. She and George were getting ready to go to Hogwarts to have lunch with their friends. They had decided to bring them lunch and she still had a dozen or so sandwiches to make. 

“Sure thing,” George walked into the kitchen, hair still wet from the shower, and jeans hanging low on his hips. “Do you need help in here?” He put a piece of bacon between Hermione’s teeth and picked a sandwich off the top of the pile that was already on the plate. 

“George! Those are for lunch!” She swatted at his hand, before turning to remove the last batch of eggs from the stove. 

“This is excellent, Mione.” He trotted from the room, grabbing a second sandwich and dodging the wooden spoon Hermione lobbed at him.

“Get dressed! We have to leave soon! “ She called after him, summoning the spoon back to the kitchen, and letting it fall into the washbasin. 

It took her at least half an hour to finish making sandwiches, and by the time she was done, there were almost three dozen egg salad sandwiches on the plate. Hermione put the lot of them into a magical picnic basket that she had bought from a shop in Diagon Alley and rushed to the bedroom to change. 

She stripped out of George’s shirt and pulled on a pair of jeans, and a grey shirt with sleeves that extended to just below her elbow. “George! Where are you?” The witch pulled her socks on and plunged her feet into her shoes. “We need to go!” She shouted as she nearly sprayed herself in the face with her favorite perfume. 

“Simmer down,” He said, walking into the room, now fully dressed. George bent down to tie his shoes and pulled his robes on. “Okay then, let's go.” He pulled Hermione’s arm as she grabbed her robes from the hook next to the door. 

“Okay, just let me grab the basket.” She ran to the kitchen, and then met George in front of the fireplace. 

“Ready?” He asked her, squeezing her hand. 

“I think so. You?” She smiled, trying to ignore the nervousness nibbling on her veins.

“I think… no, I’m good. Now, come right behind me alright? The Great Hall.” With that the older wizard tossed a bit of floo powder into the fire, shouted “Hogwarts!” and walked into them, disappearing from sight. 

Hermione took a deep breath. She had not been back to the castle since the final battle, and she was afraid to revisit the place where such carnage had unfolded. Standing up straight, she swallowed hard and followed suit. Before she knew it, she was standing next to George in the Great Hall, which was bustling with sounds and activity . 

“Hermione! George!” Ginny came bounding up to them, followed closely by Ron. They threw their arms around Hermione, and then George. 

“Harry! Harry come look whos here!” Ron yelled, turning to look for the dark-haired boy who was undoubtedly just around the corner. 

“What are you doing here?” Ginny asked, hugging Hermione again, and pulling her towards one of the tables. 

“I thought that I would bring lunch. I think that I should have enough. If not I could always go back and make more.” She said, setting the basket on the table. 

“Lunch sounds lovely,” Ginny said, opening the basket and peering inside. “So mums told us that you moved in with George? How’s that going” 

“Yes,” Hermione blushed. “It’s quite nice. I really love working in the shop. Your brothers are very talented. I’ve never seen some of their magic before! It’s really quite advanced.” 

“You’re not living in the spare room then I take it?” Ginny said, helping Hermione pull the platter of sandwiches out of the magical basket. 

“No,” Hermione said, blushing furiously. “He asked me to be his girlfriend though. You know, officially.” 

“Really?! That’s exciting! I’m so pleased!” Ginny hugged the girl tightly. Before they could continue the conversation any further, Ron came back into the hall followed closely by Harry, Neville, Luna, and several others, including Dean, Shamus, and Oliver Wood. 

“Hermione!” Harry and Luna bounded up to her and threw their arms around her. “How are you?” 

“Hi, guys! I’m fine. Where is George?” Hermione looked around the hall over the heads of those people who were grabbing lunch. She picked up two sandwiches and headed out of the hall. “I’ll be right back guys, I’m gonna go find him.” 

“Why? What do you want with my brother?” Ron called after her. Hermione didn’t respond and walked into the rest of the castle. 

The castle was still in disarray. There were countless piles of rubble on the ground, and the enchanted brooms were slumping tiredly against the walls. As she looked around, memories of the battle flashed before her eyes, and she blinked furiously and continued looking for her boyfriend. There was a faint sound of laughter coming from the courtyard, and as she walked closer, she could hear George’s voice.

“Yeah, and she loves the shop. She works so hard and even enjoys testing the products.” George said excitedly. “The canary creams are her favorite, I think. And she’s even introduced me to all this cool muggle food. Buffalo lips are my favorite.” George was sitting on a bench looking at the empty spot beside him.

“George?” Hermione walked into the yard, holding the sandwiches. “Who are you talking t…” 

“Freds here, Mione.” He looked at her, a soft smile playing at his lips. “I’ve been telling him all about you, and about us. I told him all about the store too. I think he’s happy for us.” He placed a hand on her knee and took a sandwich from her outstretched hand.

Hermione sat beside him and nudged him with her leg. “No one’s here George. We are the only people out here.” 

“He may not physically be here, but I know he’s listening. I know he can hear me.” 

Hermione took a bite of her lunch and leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re getting a chance to talk to him. I’m sure he’s very proud of you.” 

“I’m sure she is. Especially for this.” 

“For coming to help at the school? I never thought he’d be one to enjoy cleaning.” 

“Yes, but that’s not what I meant.” He said. “ He’d be proud of me for finally making a move on the prettiest girl we knew.” George took a bite of his sandwich as he continued, “I remember seeing you at the Yule Ball. You looked so beautiful, that night. I was trying to ask you to dance with me, but I couldn't muster up the courage, Then I saw you crying, and I wanted to punch my dear little brother. I did turn his socks into a large spider though.” He grinned when she let out a giggle.

They sat together for a while, eating and giggling. The sky began to grow ever darker. 

“Should we go back in?” Hermione asked, looking up at the angry sky. Several small copper colored birds flew over their heads, whistling in a funny tune, dropping bright orange feathers as they left. She could feel it too. It was as though Fred was there, and though she couldn’t explain it, she felt him watching them.

“Not yet. I want to savor this moment for as long as I can.” George stood up and hugged her tightly. “I’m so happy, Mione. I’m so so happy.” He placed one hand on her waist and took her hand with the other. “May I have this dance, Miss. Granger?” They danced to the sound of the laughter filtering out of the castle and only made their way into the castle when it finally began to rain. 

•••  
“Where have you two been?” Dean asked as Hermione and George walked into the Great Hall holding hands. He was sitting next to Shamus. Soft snores came from the Irish boy, who seemed to be asleep with his head in his arms. They approached their friends at one of the long house tables and came to a standstill. They shared a meaningful glance before letting their fingers untangle and fall to their sides. 

“Probably on a romantic walk. They’re in love. Besides, nargles don’t like the rain very much, so that’s why they were outside. That’s what Neville and I do at least.” Luna said, giving Neville a meaningful look. Neville smiled at her, some egg salad fell from his sandwich and plopped into his lap. 

“In love? You must be mad. Why would they be on a romantic walk?” Ron said angrily. He shot his brother a look of loathing. “It’s not like they’re friends or anything. He would never fancy Hermione. I mean, she isn’t his type.” 

“Actually,” Began Ginny, sounding annoyed. “They a…” 

“Hermione, can you come upstairs with me? I need your help in the common room.” Harry said loudly, pulling her out of the room and up the staircase to the Gryffindor common room. 

“Harry, slow down! Harry!” She wheezed, trying to catch up.

“Come on, I’ll explain later.” The two approached the portrait and it swung open without even inquiring for a password. 

“What do you need from me?” Hermione asked, wiping her hands on the back of her jeans. “Do you need to get into the girl’s dormitory?” 

“No, what... Can you do that?” Harry quickly changed course when he saw Hermione gave him a very cross look. “I just thought that I’d get you out of there before it gets nasty.” Harry plopped down onto one of the couches. “Ron doesn’t handle surprises well. You know that.” 

Hermione plopped down on the opposite side of the couch and laid down, putting her head in Harry’s lap. She looked around the familiar room and was surprised to see that for the most part, it looked untouched by battle. Harry must have known what she was thinking. 

“We tended to the common spaces first. That was we would all have a place to sleep. Many of us stay here at night, and sleeping in our beds beats sleeping on the floor in the Great Hall.” He stroked Hermione’s hair and leaned his head back onto the back of the sofa to stare at the ceiling. “So, you and George? You are together, aren't you?” 

“How did you…” 

“Ginny.” They both said in unison. laughing. They talked for nearly an hour about life after the war, and what their plans were in the near future. 

“So, are you… ya know… together?” Harry’s fingers pulled through a knot in her hair. 

“Yes, we are. I moved in with him not long ago,” Hermione reached up and ran her index finger along a scar on the underside of Harry’s chin. “I help him in the shop during the day, and it’s quite nice. I even helped him come up with a brand new product.” 

“I’m guessing that is why you have a streak of purple in your hair, then?” Harry looked down and wrapped a section of her hair that was still an aluminous shade of royal purple around his fingers. 

“Yes,” She giggled. “He told me that he loves me, Harry. Can you believe that? He loves me!” 

“Well, that’s understandable Hermione. There is a lot to love about you.” Harry shifted in his seat. “Mione. You are the strongest, smartest, most beautiful girl I’ve ever known. You’re as brave and brilliant as they come.” 

She sat up and put her feet on the floor. “You really think so?” She asked him. “Thank you, Harry.” Hermione wrapped her arms around Harry tightly. 

“Don’t mention it.” He smiled at her. “Let’s go back downstairs. I’m sure everyone has had enough time to interrogate George. They laughed as they walked arm in arm out of the portrait hole, and down to the great hall. 

When they arrived downstairs, Ron was nowhere to be found but George and Ginny both greeted her warmly. 

“Did you get enough to eat, Mione?” Ginny asked her. There were at least 100 people in the hall, and the sandwiches had been duplicated. “I made more in case you didn’t get enough. Plus there are more in the halls.” The girl passed a sandwich to Hermione, as she spoke. 

•••  
Many hours had passed, and Hermione and George were preparing to leave. They had spent the day clearing rubble from various parts of the hospital, and repairing damage to some of the paintings, many of which had taken a great amount of damage from spells, hexes, and curses that had missed their intended living targets. 

The couple stood by the fire, as their friends stood around them. Ron was still avoiding the hall, and even though Hermione had tried to find him, Ginny had urged her not to. 

“Just leave him be, Mione. He’ll be back to normal in a few days. Just go home and get some sleep. Enjoy your weekend.” Ginny and the others hugged her and shook hands with George before they both walked into the fireplace and out into the flat above the shop. 

“Well, that was something.” George, who had been carrying the basket, dropped it into the kitchen and began leading Hermione back to the bedroom. 

“It was! I’m so glad we got to see everyone. Maybe we can go back next week.” Hermione sent balls of light to the lamterns and changed into a clean pair of PJs. 

“We could, but we may want to give ickle Ronniekins time to relax. I’m sure he’s in no hurry to see me.”

“He was acting rather strangely.” Hermione crossed the hall and into the bathroom to brush her teeth. 

“You wanna talk about strange,” George said coming in behind her and squeezing toothpaste onto his toothbrush. “Did you see Shamus and Dean?” 

Hermione groaned as she saw that he didn’t wet his toothbrush before adding the toothpaste. “What do you mean. I didn’t think that his finger looked that bad.” 

“I’m not talking about no finger, Granger. I’m talking about the flirting.” a small drop of toothpaste fell from George’s lips and landed on his chest. 

“What flirting?” Hermione spit a glob of toothpaste into the sink and continued to brush her teeth. 

“Did you not see?” George wiped the minty dollop off his chest and dropped his toothbrush in the cup next to the sink. “They seem very interested in, well, each other.”

“They’re best friends, of course, they’re interested. Not everyone is aloof like you!” Hermione rinsed her toothbrush and placed it in the cup with George’s.

“I am not aloof!” George said in mock outrage as they walked back into the bedroom. He grabbed Hermione from behind and tickled her ribs. 

“George! George stooooop!” She wheezed between giggles. 

“Never.” He nuzzled the side of her neck as they fell into bed giggling in each other’s arms. 

The lights dimmed, and the sheets were pleasantly cool on their skin. Hermione turned around and nested herself against George’s body. 

“I love you.” She whispered, closing her eyes. 

“I love you too, little canary.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Sorry for the short chapter! I have new and exciting things coming out soon! I hope that you enjoy this lil bitty chapter, and I hope that you are as excited as I am for the next one. Please remember to leave me some comments and a kudos if you like this story! Happy reading!

The sun hung low in the sky, and Hermione was stirring a small pot of stew that was slowly bubbling on the stove. George was down in the shop below, counting the day’s earnings and locking the doors. Another week had passed by and Hermione was tired. 

“Ello love.” George walked into the flat moments later and dropped his robes on the floor next to the coat rack. “Dinner smells great. What are you making?” He stood behind the girl and wrapped his arms around her waist. As he bent down to kiss the top of her head, she let the spoon slip inside of the pot and turned to wrap her arms around him. 

“It’s just some stew.” The fabric of his vest was scratchy against her cheek. “I know we talked about going back to the castle this weekend, but I was thinking that we could just stay here. We haven’t gotten much time together lately, have we.” She fumbled with the buttons of his vest and pulled it down his arms, letting it fall to the floor. 

“Sounds good to me Mione.” He chuckled as Hermione untucked his shirt and fiddled with the buttons, exposing the warm skin below. 

“I’m sorry it’s not done already. I was hoping to have it ready by the time you got upstairs, but…” She faltered, and turned back to the stove, pushing her hair out of her eyes with the back of her hand. 

“But what?” George narrowed his eyes and gave her bum a little squeeze before he picked his vest off the floor. “You alright?” 

“Oh yes,” she grabbed two bowls from the cabinet and ladled stew into both of them, before sending them floating over to the tiny table. “I was just working on some ideas for a new product.” Hermione turned to the table and scratched at her scar with her index finger, raking the nail over the tender skin. 

“Hey, come here you.” George sat at the table and waved her over to him. “Come closer, little canary.” He grabbed her hands and spread his knees out so she could stand between them. 

“Mione, you can’t keep picking at this. It will never heal.” He gripped her wrist in his hand and turned her arm to look at the scar that Bellatrix had left. “Actually, I have an idea.” George reached back and pulled a small white rectangle out of his pocket. “Let’s try this.” Without another word, he peeled the thin film off of the paper and placed it face down over the pulsing and itchy scar. Next, he dipped his shirt sleeve in his glass of water and pressed it down firmly over the paper. 

“George wha-” 

“Shhh.” He shushed her. “Now, look at this.” Several seconds later, he peeled the paper away from her skin and a small yellow canary appeared on her arm. It hopped from side to side and ruffled its feathers before blinking up at Hermione. 

“Temporary tattoos. I saw them in a muggle shop on vacation with Mum and Dad once. Now you can’t scratch at that bloody scar anymore.” George had begun to massage circles into her hips with his thumbs and groaned as he sat back in the chair. 

“I’ve never had a tattoo before. I love it.” She lowered herself onto his knee and ran her fingers over the yellow bird, who danced away from her fingertips. “Where’s yours though.”

“Mine? Should we match?” He smiled up at her, and pulled her face to his, and kissed the tip of her nose and then her forehead.

“Maybe. Perhaps a different bird. A Steller's Jay maybe.” Hermione kissed his cheek and pulled away from him to look at her tattoo again. The canary was pecking at invisible seeds. 

“Anything for you, my dear.” 

“Anything?” Hermione asked, looking up at him slyly. He gulped, as she began placing kisses along his neck and shoulders. The witch began running her hands against George's bare torso as she pushed his shirt off. 

“Well for starts, you can put on some clean clothes and come back here. Dinner is going to get cold.” She hopped up and giggled, as she threw his shirt over his head. 

“You are something else, Mione.” George stood up and caught his shirt as it fell off of his head. He grinned wickedly and snapped it at her, as she screeched and scuttled back into the kitchen, giggling. George walked to his room, grumbling about how he never had to change his clothes before dinner at the Burrow.

“You must be hungry.” Hermione sat across the small table and pushed a bowl of stew in front of George before pulling on to her own placemat. The two sat in silence for several moments as they spooned hot broth, beef, and potatoes into their mouths. 

Hermione had known the Weasleys for many years now, but never did she imagine that she would be playing house with one of them, much less George. They met each other’s eyes and smiled through spoonfuls of stew. Hermione, like many other girls, had laid awake at night imagining her life and her prince charming. 

Years ago, she had daydreamed about curling up next to a handsome man, reading books, and quizzing each other over what they had just read. She had wondered what it would be like to sprawl out in the grass with someone on a sunny day, or to relax in the living room in the winter. Doing nothing but cuddling together. Briefly, she had imagined her fairytale wedding, her honeymoon, and her early adult life. She had closed her eyes and pictured herself with Ron, Viktor, and briefly even Harry at one point during what must have been a fever dream. She’d never admit it out loud, but a fleeting week in her sixth year, Hermione had wondered what it had been like to take morning walks with Draco Malfoy. Hands linked, as they wandered the paved streets of some small neighborhood. 

Then, when Voldemort returned, she had almost given up thinking about the future altogether. What was the purpose of imagination at all if you didn’t know what the coming hours held, much less the coming years. 

Nearly every summer since her early Hogwarts years, she had been at the Burrow. The girl had seen them all grow up alongside her. Even Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had aged right before her eyes. Hermione now supposed that it had all happened quite fast, but when they were happening, the long summer nights made time creep by. Currently unaware of her present surroundings, she remembered being fifteen and staying up all night, cuddled up next to Ginny in her bed. They used to spend the entire night giggling and talking about how stupid boys were. Memories of the past flooded Hermione’s mind, and she felt a sensation of warmth spread through her chest and settle in her cheeks. 

“HERMIONE!” She jumped as a soggy potato flew across the table and plopped down into her bowl, splashing her, and sending brown droplets of stew onto her jumper. 

“Hmm? What? What’s wrong?” Hermione shook out her trance. George was looking at her from across the table, holding his spoon as a catapult. 

“Are. You. Okay.” George asked her, careful to enunciate each word.

“Oh, Yes! I was just reliving some memories I guess.” Hermione placed her spoon down onto her napkin and picked up her bowl to drain the last of the broth from the bottom. 

George smiled at her. “Care to share, or is this another frolic in the girl’s dormitory? Katie Bell again, or did you find yourself another bird. An upperclassman maybe? Does the little canary like older women now?” 

“Oh hush George. I was just thinking about all of my summers at the Burrow.” Hermione rolled her eyes and stood. She raised her arms over her head and stretched as she yawned. Her shirt raised just enough to expose a thin strip of skin on her hips. “I remember I spent so long being in love with your brother, I never took the time to see what was right in front of me. Though if I’m being honest, I never thought you liked me much. As anything more than a friend of Ron’s I mean.” 

Hermione busied herself picking up dishes and bringing them to the kitchen. She could tell that George was watching her as she moved around the small kitchen tidying the dishes and cleaning up from where she had cooked only an hour previously. 

“Of course I liked you. Fred and I both did. How could we not? Come on Mione, you gotta give a bloke more credit.” he smiled. “Come on, let sit in the sitting room and you can tell me about all of these memories. I’d love to hear about all of the good times that you had back home. Tell me everything.” He stood and walked over to the small living room and plopped down on the couch, and motioned for her to join him.


	9. Chapter 9

It was nearly ten in the evening, and Hermione was laying on the small sofa in the sitting room. She and George had been reliving old memories for hours. The fire was crackling in the hearth, and it was foggy and rainy out. The rain fell heavily upon the shop, drops bouncing off of the windows, and rocketing down to the earth in a race to see which could collide first. 

“Remember that one summer when you, Ron, and Harry were supposed to degnome the garden for the third time in two weeks? And Harry kicked one-”

“And it flew right into Fred’s face when he came out to tell us that dinner was ready?” 

“Yes!” She giggled “And it clung to his ears and he ended up running around smacking his face? I was like he was wearing some horrid gnome mask.” she wiped at the tears that were leaking from her eyes with the back of her hand. She hadn't laughed like this in what felt like a lifetime. 

“I had no idea that you had so many memories of us. Especially happy ones. I thought for sure they would mostly consist of us breaking the rules.” He looked over at her from where he was sprawled on the thick rug that covered the entirety of the sitting room. “Do you have any memories of me. From school or the Burrow? Good ones I mean?” 

Hermione turned onto her side and pulled a coppery orange pillow under her head. “I have many. There is one though…” 

“Ah, is it the memory where you discovered that you were madly in love with me?” George crawled across the floor and plopped down next to the sofa. “I bet that’s what it is. Though if you tell me that you initially preferred the less attractive twin, I will cry and you’ll have to console me.” 

“Oh, do shut up!” Hermione smacked him in the face with her pillow until he snatched it and put it under his head. “It is about the first time I saw you in a more than friendly light.” 

“Tell me everything,” George said.

“Well,” began Hermione tentatively. “ I was sneaki… going for a late-night walk once and I saw you on the couch by the fire, you know, in the common room.” 

“We will talk about the sneaking later. But yes, continue.” George twirling his wand in his fingers. 

“I saw you on the couch. You were, um… kissing Leah Hart. I wasn’t expecting to, but I couldn’t stop thinking about that. Running my hands down your chest like she was, or feeling your hands run down my sides. I don’t know, it was all very strange. I thought about kissing you like that the whole time I was walking.”

“Ah yes, Leah. Pretty thing really. Dark hair, pale skin… she has one blue eye and one green. Did you know that she has fairy blood.”

“That would explain why she is so short.” Hermione could picture Leah in her head. The older girl was shorter than Hermione, despite being older. Leah was very pale and had mismatched eyes. Her lips were the perfect color and Her dark brown hair floated as though she were in those shampoo ads that she used to see in her mum's catalogs. There was no doubt that she was beautiful. Her kind nature and slight frame made her even more alluring, and finding out that she had fairy in her lineage was no shock once she thought about it more. 

“How long did you watch us, Canary? I never would have guessed that our little Hermione was a watcher.” He wiggled his eyebrows and wiggled his fingers in a spider motion and reached to tickle her. “Did you want to trade places with her Mione?” 

The younger witch squirmed and her laughter filled the small room like small bells tinkling. “You idiot,” she giggled, “Maybe I wanted to trade places with you! I’ll never tell.” George sprung to his feet and pulled Hermione up to hers. 

“Let’s dance Mione.” The wizard flicked on the wireless radio and sound flooded the flat. “Do you know this song?” He asked her as they waltzed around the living room. 

“No, but it’s quite nice.” She tried to imagine kissing Leah the same way that she had imagined kissing George. NImble and shaky fingers working to unbutton Leah’s school shirt, and soft skin beckoning beneath the starched white fabric. Pale hands with black nails tangled in Hermione’s bushy hair, pulling her closer as she let her own hands explore the torso of the other Gryffindor girl. Her smooth skin and messy dark hair wove webs in Hermione’s head. Their desperate breathing as Leah kissed her with such fervor that even though it was nothing more than a fantasy, Hermione could feel her in the room. Surprised at herself, the girl shook her head slightly. 

“What are you thinking about?” George asked, looking down at her. 

“Oh, nothing. I tried to imagine kissing Leah, but it’s not nearly as fun as imaging kissing you.” She looked up at him and winked before giggling and burying her face in George’s chest.

“I’d pay a whole sack full of gold to see that. But then again, I want to be the only one who kisses you.” He twirled her around and pulled her closer to him. “ What can I say,” he kissed the top of her head. “You’ve got me under your spell.”

“And I’m under yours.” She said sleepily. “I love dancing with you like this George. I wish you could hear all of my favorite muggle songs. I grew up liking all the old tunes. My parents would dance around the kitchen listening to them and I would dance with my little stuffed donkey.” 

“What was your donkey’s name? What are your favorite songs?” He asked her. Pausing only to turn the radio off and pull her down the hall to the bedroom. 

“You sure have a lot of questions,” Hermione said as she plopped down on the bed. “They're all these American singers. My parents used to love listening to this collection of CDs called American Gold. It had artists like Jo Stafford, Vera Lynn, Julie London, The Coasters, Patti Page, Dean Martin, Louis Armstrong… I love them all. But as I said, they are all American musicians.”

“Do muggle singers sound very different from European ones?” He asked, kicking off his pants and plopping down beside her. His boxers were light pink and clashed with his freckles. 

“I suppose. It just has that old New York style to them. It's so beautiful.” 

“What’s New York?” George asked Pulling her into his side. “Sound like a funny snack.” 

“It’s a large city in the state of New York. It’s really beautiful there. I’ve seen pictures but I’ve never actually been there myself. I’d love to go someday though.” Hermione pivoted her body and tossed her legs over George’s. She pulled a book off of the bedside table. The Once and Future King. 

“We should go there someday,” George said. “Tell me more about it.” He grabbed the book from her and took a hold of her hand. “Tell me about this New York.” 

“Well,” Hermione shifted, “There are lots of sky-high buildings. “They call them skyscrapers I believe. There are lights, and people, and music everywhere. There is also lots and lots and LOTS of food. The most amazing foods you could imagine. Pizza, and Italian, and Mexican food. That’s not all though.” Hermione rushed, as George had opened his mouth as if to ask a question. “There is Greek food and all kinds of things. The shopping is incredible too. Just think of all of the books…” She trailed off, visions of bookstores with high ceilings, and many floors swam in her head. 

“You must still be hungry. I mean, if you're thinking about food that much. Do you want me to get you something from the kitchen?”

“No, that’s quite alright. Thank you though.”

“Okay if you won't take my food, you have to at least kiss me.” 

“That, my dear, is my favorite thing to do.” Hermione smiled sweetly as she kissed the boy, and grabbed her book away from his hands.


	10. Chapter 10

Explosions echoed in her head. Screams acted as wallpaper as they cloaked the castle in the color of fear. Everywhere she looked, she saw bright lights and fallen soldiers, crumpled in the same places they called home for years. 

“Hermione!” Harry yelled. “Hermione run!” She couldn't see him, or tell where he was, but his voice filled her ears. She ran as fast as she could, barely getting counter curses out as she went. She ran up the stairs, careful to miss the trick step. When she reached the portrait of the fat lady, it swung open without prompt just in time for her to scramble through. The common room was all but empty but well lit and inviting as all of the sounds from outside faded into silence.

A warm sense of relief filled her and sent pleasant tingles up her spine and disappeared into her hairline. Sighing, she slumped into a chair at her favorite table and closed her eyes. Had she imagined what she had just seen? It had seemed so real, so clear. She could still taste the dust. No matter, she’d figure it out later. Now, she was so tired that she let herself drift off into sleep. 

“Mione, can you look over my potions?” Hermione awoke to find herself in the common room with Ron and Harry looking over the table at her. Ron was pushing his homework across the table at her. Ron looked flustered and had an ink smudge on one of his temples. He had written so much parchment that it fell off of the table in ribbons. They covered so much of the common room floor that the rug was no longer visible. She stared at the paper.

“Hermione, are you alright?” Harry asked her. “Hermione!” He snapped his fingers in front of her face a few times. Except she couldn't hear his real voice. All she heard was a soft and slightly seductive hissing. Harry’s eyes glowed red from behind his glasses, and his teeth elongated down past his lips. She pushed her chair back away from the table and held back a scream. Harry’s body morphed horribly, contorting into a 50-foot long snake. It filled the room, its scaly body crushing the furniture and extinguishing the light from the fire as Ron vanished from sight. 

Without thinking, Hermione clambered out of her chair and ran back towards the portrait hole. “Hermione don’t go. Help us.” The snake spat. 

As soon as she ran out of the portrait hole, she was not in the castle at all, but instead in a dark room with high ceilings. She was on her back looking up at the face of Bellatrix. The Death Eater was so close to Hermione that she could taste it. Cloves and cigarette smoke filled the young witch’s nostrils and the faint metallic taste of blood and the spice from Bella’s robes coated Hermione’s teeth. 

The words that tumbled from the lips of the dark figure above her came in the voice not of the Lestrange, but of her mother. “You left us. How could you abandon us? How could you? This is your fault.” The voice cloaked her and seeped into her ears and crawled over her face like thousands of tiny spiders. They stung her and sucked the blood out of her as if each syllable was a miniature blast ended skrewt. “You must suffer.” The voice screamed. “Crucio”. 

Hermione began to scream and tears burst from her eyes as she thrashed around under the weight of the grown woman pinning her to the soft plush floor. All reasoning left her mind as the only thing she could think of was death. She wanted to die. She wanted nothing more than for the pain to stop, and then all at once, it did. The room around her vanished and she was alone in the darkness, No pain, no suffering. Just still. Just silence. Memories, faded and translucent of the past events floated in her mind, almost too watery to focus on entirely. Bellatrix’s face stood out the most. A drop of dark and black oil in an otherwise clear pool. 

Where was she? Who was she? Was she alive? 

”Hermione? Hermione dear?” It was her mother’s voice. Soft and feminine as compared to before. She whimpered and reached out her hands despite not being able to see anything. She reached and felt for a voice that she could not see. She could feel someone there with her. Soft and warm skin, cool breath on her face. She grasped at the figure frantically. Suddenly, a large calloused hand held her face as another was pulling her arm, bringing her to a sitting position. “HERMIONE!” The voice was gruff and tired. The memory of the wild-haired woman in Malfoy manor faded into nothing and the flat materialized in front of her as she opened her teary eyes. George’s face swam into view. He was shaking her and stroking her face. 

As her eyes adjusted to the room around her, the witch slumped into George Weasley. She could feel her shirt sticking to her body, and the sweat dripping on her skin. She looked as though she had gone for a swim. Beads of sweat dripped from her nose and her hair. 

“Bad dream.” She said, wiping the sleep from her eyes. It must have been nearly five in the morning. 

“I know. You were thrashing about.” He said solemnly. “Crying and screaming too. I thought you were having some sort of fit.” Now that she got a better look at the boy, she saw that he had a bright red bump on his forehead. “You elbowed me in the head at one point, but it doesn’t matter. You’re safe now. I’m here.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer to him. 

“I’m soaking wet George,” Hermione said, pulling the front of her shirt off of her sticky chest only to have it cling back to her wet skin. She was so warm and desperate for some cool air, but her legs didn't seem to want to move. 

“Come on, let's get you into the bathroom. A cool shower will do you good.” George pulled her to her feet and guided her to the bathroom and into the tub. “Stay right there. Don’t move, I’ll be right back.” He rushed from the room and returned moments later with both of their wands. He appeared again clutching his wand. With a flick of his wrist. He lit up the bathroom and set the wand on the edge of the bath as he turned the water on. 

“But I am still wearing my clothes, George.” Hermione yawned and shook her head as she clutched her wand to her chest. The cool water felt good against her skin. “At least let me ta-” 

“Not so fast Canary,” George climbed into the shower and pulled the curtain closed behind him. “Here, let me help you up.” He reached down and offered Hermione his outstretched hand. She took it gratefully and allowed the wizard to pull her to her feet. “Now let’s get this off of you.”

Slowly, George pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it out onto the floor. “Careful now.” He crouched down to pull her shorts and panties down her legs and allowed her to step out of them. Standing back up after tossing the remainder of her clothes out onto the floor, He pulled Hermione’s small body into his, and wrapped his arms around her. The cold water collided with her skin and brought her back to life. Even after she started to cool off she stood with her face in his chest. 

“Could we use some warm water?” She asked, shivering slightly. Before she even finished her sentence, the water began to warm up. Hermione took a step back and looked into the eyes of the man standing before her. “You're still wearing your clothes,” she said lazily, as she pulled at the hem of his wet shirt.

“Don’t worry about me, little canary. Let’s get you cleaned up and back to bed.” George grabbed a bar of bright green soap and lathered it against her skin, being careful not to rub too hard or vigorously. The water washed away the suds, and left her skin soft and smelling faintly of fir trees. His fingers grazed every inch of her skin, sealing every pore with love and gentleness. Nothing could harm her when she was in his arms. 

As he helped her out of the bath. George grabbed a fluffy towel and wrapped it around Hermione before grabbing another and gently massaging her hair, drying it with a whispered charm. “There you go, all clean and fresh. Let’s go back to bed, huh?” Without waiting for a response, he guided her back down the hall and into the bedroom.

“You’re dripping water everywhere George!” Hermione said, shaking her head softly, starting to wake up a bit. It was still raining, but a soft morning light was peaking into the windows, begging her to get started with the day. “I appreciate you taking care of me and being so gentle, but you shouldn’t get the entire flat wet over this. It was only a bad dream.” 

She sat on the bed, still wrapped in the towel. George pointed the wand at the sweaty sheets and used the same spell that he had that night that he pulled her out of the storm and into his bedroom. The sheets were dry and toasty and as she climbed back under the blanket. 

“Aren’t you going to join me?” She asked looking at George who was headed back out the door. 

“I’ll be back in a moment. I need to get dried off. I’ll just go get all cleaned up and I’ll be back. Go back to sleep if you can. Don’t worry. We’ll close the shop today and just relax. I think you need a break.” George left the room and Hermione stared at the ceiling and waited. 

She allowed herself to get comfortable and closed her eyes as sleep tugged at the corners of her mind. Hermione was only vaguely aware of George coming back into the room and when he climbed into bed next to her, the scent of his soap floated over her. This time when she dreamt, it was of her and George. They were in a muggle house, and they were both cooking breakfasts as Dream a Little Dream filtered through a small radio on the counter. George had a scraggly beard and his hair was peppered with grey. His forearms were taught and firm as he whisked a bowl of eggs, and the bacon in the pan next to him sizzled happily. Everything seemed right, and she couldn’t ever remember a time that was outside of that moment. Everything was okay and there was nothing in the world that she should fear.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please sound off in the comments if you are reading this story. I'd really love to know if I am getting any reach at all.

Rain pattered down on the glass and fog had settled upon Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes and the surrounding shops in Diagon Alley. They had gotten several hours of sleep, and the inhabitants of the flat started to awaken. 

Hermione could feel George behind her, arm loosely thrown over her waist. She smiled softly in the dim and dusty light of the small bedroom and scooted backward so her body fit perfectly against his. She sighed and turned over, kissing him gently and nuzzled up against his neck. 

“Mmmm. Good morning little canary.” George said, his voice low and heavy with sleep. “How are you feeling?” He wrapped both of his arms around her in a quick embrace before releasing her and turning onto his back. 

“Much better. No nightmares this time. Actually, my dreams were quite pleasant.” Hemione grabbed George’s hand and laced her fingers through his. 

“Tell me about your dream. What happened in Hermione Land?” He rubbed circles into her hand with his thumb. George turned his head to look at her and he took that moment to count her freckles. They formed small constellations on her nose and cheeks, all contributing to the milky way of her skin. 

“It was quite lovely. We were living in a small town. In this muggle house…” She blushed. “It was around sunrise, and the light shone through the windows at just the right angle. Both of us were in the kitchen, and we were cooking breakfast. There was this radio on the counter... Some old song was playing. Mama Cass was the singer, but you wouldn’t know who she is. She was quite famous in her day. I think we must have been a bit older though because you had grey in your hair and your beard.” She smiled as she recounted the dream. 

“A beard?” George asked. “I would never grow a beard. Though maybe mum would stop calling me Fre-, I mean, maybe I will grow a beard. Make me more distinguished, and regal.” George stroked his chin, trying to think of anything but his twin. “And grey hair? I refuse to get old. I’m far too good looking for that. What posh.” 

“I wouldn’t mind that life. Living in a small muggle home.” She mused, ignoring him. Waking up to you making breakfast for us, bringing you lunch at the shop…” 

“Stopping by on your way to the library.” He added, elbowing her in the ribs playfully. 

“Picking up the shopping on the way home from the shop…” She added. They listed things that they could do someday if for whatever reason they came to live in a muggle or any other home that was bigger than a small flat above a joke shop. 

Hermione and George got up and changed into clean pajamas and moseyed into the kitchen, making breakfast and going back to the bedroom to lounge over the top of the messily made bed. They were still sleepy from the events the night before, but still quite happy to be awake and in each other’s company. 

♥

“So,” Hermione said. 

“So.” George had a tiny bit of coffee cake hanging from his mouth and Hermione rolled her eyes before reaching for his face to pluck the sweet bread from his lips. 

“So, we should talk about this. About us.” She flicked the cake at him and watched as it bounced off of his chest and fell to the sheets. 

“I don’t like the sound of that. If you’re going to make me cry, can’t you at least wait and let me get a bit drunk first?” Though his voice was as joking and jolly as it usually was, George felt a heaviness in the pit of his stomach. 

“Oh honestly.” She huffed “I’m not going to make you cry. I’m more worried about you making me cry.” Hermione was nibbling at a sausage and staring at the toast on her plate. 

George looked almost hurt. “Make you cry?” Why would I do that?” 

“Well,” She faltered. George reached out and stroked her cheek. 

“You can tell me. I’m not going to be mad if you don’t want to do this, or if you're scared.” 

“It’s not that,” She replied, plucking up all of her Gryffindor courage. “I’m just confused.” It wasn’t that hard to say, but her nerves were getting the best of her. She had fought monsters, been petrified, faced off against a Werewolf, been harassed for an entire year, and faced certain death virtually every day since she had met the Weasleys, but she had never been so on edge. Not like this. “It’s just that I’ve known you for the better part of a decade haven't I?” The words came easily now, and she could still feel George’s fingers on her face even though he had retracted his hand. “ This all started because I was caught in a storm. You saved me and from the moment you pulled me through that window, we've been in this loop. It’s as if I’ve spent years being in love with you. As if I have known you my whole life. And… and what if I am just a bookmark for you. A place keeper. Someone, to keep you warm and distracted until the emptiness is gone?” 

“I mean, to be fair, you kind of have. “Known me your entire life. We all know that pre-Hogwarts years don’t count. You’re not a tally mark or a number to me. You aren’t just some temporary object for me though. I never want you to think that. Especially when you’re in bed with me.” 

“But it's all so fast. I feel foolish, like a young girl. Falling in love and falling apart like I have these past few months.”

“I understand that. It has been fast and maybe it is foolish, but I don’t really care. How I feel is just as real as anything else Hermione.” George snuck a sausage from her plate. “It was a bit fast, but I wouldn’t say that it was rushed. I mean, we all have been in a dark place. The entire continent is grieving the loss of someone. But we took on the thick of it. We were there. We loved and lost in the middle of the war. So naturally, we were hit the hardest.”

Hermione wasn’t yet accustomed to hearing George speak so seriously, though the occurrence was more common than anyone would ever really know. 

“Since we all got home, I was in a depression of sorts. That night, the one of the storm, I was thinking of you, and then you came into my room through the window, all wet and cold. You looked as alone and broken as I felt.” 

She interrupted. “ Why were you thinking of me?” Her voice was soft and her chocolate eyes searched Georges whiskey colored ones. “What were you thinking?”

“Because you are worse off than any of us.” He said. “You’re alone. Your family is in another country, and you were dealing with Ron and his shit. You were living with us, and despite being in a house full of the best-looking people around, you were completely alone. Just as alone as I was. I wanted to reach out to you, and let you know that I was here for you and that we could be alone together. I could hear your voice in my head, and I could see your face. I guess I just never realized how much I missed you.” His words came out in a rush. It was as though he was trying to get all the words out before he lost his nerve. 

“You missed me?” She asked him.

“Yes. I missed you. We’re friends and I’ve watched you grow up. I've known you for so long. It’s weird. I found myself thinking about you, more… more than I should have. In a different way. I missed your bushy hair, and I missed your desire to keep us in line every time we messed up. Which was often. I miss the way you chew your lip when you do homework. I miss the way you sigh when you take a drink of your tea. I miss the way you like Earl Grey even though it tastes like perfume and should never be consumed. Ever. I thought about what you do alone in the dark, and I miss the way you smelled when you walked by. Especially at the Burrow. I just, I heard you scream for help and it was a sign. It was symbolic to me. I knew that we were supposed to start a new friendship. I just didn’t know it was going to be this. But now that it is, I don’t ever want it to be anything else. I’m not ready for it to be anything other than us.” He barely breathed. George’s words were so crammed together it was as though he was speaking in run-on sentences. 

“You miss me? Still? I’m right here.” She couldn’t help herself. She smiled at the thought of George alone in his room thinking about her. 

“You don’t miss a beat do you, Mione?” He leaned and kissed her. As soon as their lips met, a hunger took over them. They all but lunged at each other, lips and bodies colliding like gentle rolling thunder. George’s hands tangled in Hermione’s hair. She moaned softly, feeling at home in his lips. 

“Damn.” Hermione felt a crunch from under her elbow. Her breakfast plate had broken beneath her, leaving a small cut on her skin. Tiny droplets of blood came to peek out of her wound and jump down to land on the broken pieces beneath her. 

“Let me just take this to the kitchen. I’ll be back in a second.” Hermione scrambled out of bed taking the broken pieces with her. George stood and followed her out, slinking down the hall after her. 

“Damn.” Hermione dropped the broken pieces into the sink. She reached for a towel and began to dab at her elbow. 

“Alright, Mione?” George asked her.

“Yes yes, I’m fine.” Hermione turned to face him. George was so close Hermione’s nose brushed his chest. His eyelids were heavy and she stood on her tiptoes and kissed his nose and his chin. Then his neck and chest. Then she dropped to her knees. Hermione looked up to see George, eyes all bur closed, breathing stiffly. 

George was using all of his focus to not come undone in the kitchen. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back slightly and tried to control his breathing and clear his racing mind when he felt a sudden tugging at his waistband. The wizard looked down to see Hermione's bushy head all but pressed into his hips. Her thin fingers pulled his lengthy member to her lips. Before he knew it, Hermione had run her tongue along the length of his cock and wrapped her lips around the head.

He swallowed hard, and let the groan that he had been holding back tumble from his lips. She bobbed her head in a slow and steady rhythm, paying special attention to the head. George moaned and took a few steps back to lean against the table. He wrapped his hands in her hair and pulled it away from her face. Her eyes were closed as she ran her hand between her legs and rubbed the thin, damp fabric that covered her most sensitive area.

Hermione moaned around him, sending vibrations up his spine. “Mione, if you do that again I may not be able to keep myself from bending you over this table.” He breathed, shifting slightly as he felt himself hitting the back of her throat. 

Hermione looked up at him and winked before cupping his balls with her free hand and moaned again. George bucked his hips up into her mouth and pushed her off of him before standing and stepping out of his boxers. He pulled her to her feet and began kissing and nibbling her neck. 

“Come on Maya. Help me.” He crooned as she pulled her shirt over her head. 

“What's that you’re calling me?” 

“Maya. Her MAYA knee.” He enunciated. George spun her around, bent her over the table, and pushed her soft cotton shorts to her ankles. The wizard ripped her light pink panties to the side and plunged into her, a loud moan escaping from his lips. “Fuck.” 

His thrusts were frenzied and swift. The table creaked loudly under their weight and Hermione could feel the rough grains of wood pressing into her chest. “George, let's go to the room.” She gasped. “Come on.” Hermione made to stand up and George spun her around and picked her up, allowing for Hermione to wrap her legs around his waist as he hurried down the hall. 

“Here,” he tossed her onto the bed. “What are you doing up there?” 

As soon as her body hit the mattress, Hermione began digging through the nightstand, for one of the small square foil wrappers. “We should use protection,” she said.

“Oh yeah, should we?” George pushed her thighs apart and buried his face between her legs. “You taste so good.” He moaned as he inserted a long and slender finger inside of her. 

The witch tilted her head back into the pillow and felt herself melt into his lips. She fingered the small foil wrapper with one hand, and gripped George’s hair with the other. 

“Here, put this on.” She gasped, looking down at him. George looked up at her through his lashes and pushed himself up onto his knees. His dick curved up nicely towards his navel. 

“I don’t think this is gonna fit into that tiny package.” He took the foil from her and tried to balance it on his member. “See. What does it even do?” 

“You’re so ridiculous, honestly. It’s a muggle thing. You know, muggle birth control.” Hermione grabbed the wrapper and ripped it open. ”Here,” she sat up and pulled the rubber out of the package and flung the foil aside. “Like this.” The girl placed the small circle on the head of his bobbing member and rolled it down over his length. “See, fits perfectly fine.” She pumped his cock a few times and laid back on the bed. 

“You should get on your knees, Mione.” He reached down and teased her clit. She sat up and turned around, using her forearms to hold herself up. George groaned behind her as he was presented with her smooth body. He aligned his cock with her entrance and slowly slid into her. She moaned as he made love to her, and shivers ran down her spine. 

The rain came down harder than ever and they both knew that fast or not, this was exactly where they were meant to be. 

♥


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if anyone is reading this.
> 
> I know I changed Verity's appearance. This is how I have always seen her in my head.

It was a Wednesday several weeks later, and the shop was alive with light and sound. George wove in and out of customers, talking to and interacting with each and every one of them. Girls smiled and batted their long eyelashes, and the boys looked at George the same way Ron and Harry had looked at Viktor Krum during the world cup. Either way, George was extremely popular, just as he had always been at school and out. 

He was currently talking to a group of what looked like 15-year-olds and showing them some Canary Creams. One of the kids, a delicate-looking girl with bright orange hair that looked like fire, burst into a cloud of feathers. A large canary was fluttering in her place. Everyone in the vicinity oohed and ahhed. 

“Aww Quinn, is that you?” Her friends shrieked and laughed, trying to get a grip onto her tail feathers. There was no break in the sound and chaos that filled the air, and a sense of contentment.

Hermione stood behind the register and chatted with Verity, stopping only to help wrap packages full of joke products, and funny sweets. 

“So,” Verity said, smiling and waving at a group of young girls who had purchased love potions. “How are you and George? You are living together, right?” Her voice was soft like morning dew and summer rain. 

Hermione looked panicked. “Err, yes. That’s right.” She had suspected for quite some time that Verity had a crush on George and probably didn’t like her much, despite being perfectly friendly to Hermione each time she saw her. 

“That’s great! I am glad to see him being so happy again. You know, we should do something sometime. You and me, I mean.” She smiled. “Want to get lunch? I’m starving. George can take care of the register himself, I’m sure.” Both Hermione and Verity knew that the Weasley boys thrived on chaos and would be quite at home in the hustle and bustle of the busy shop. 

“Alright.” She looked a bit nervous but agreed all the same. “I am rather hungry.” 

The girls found George and asked him if he'd mind terribly if they went to lunch, promising that they wouldn’t be gone long. 

“Ah, of course. I can watch the shop for a bit. Bring me back some lunch though would you?” He handed Hermione some silver sicles and saluted them both before turning to talk to the group Hermione had seen earlier. The girl called Quinn had turned back to her normal state, and now that she was closer, Hermione could see that her hair was indeed made of bright orange flames. Hermione gasped. 

“Come on Granger, I’m starving!” Verity saluted the back of George’s head and grabbed her hand and quickly pulled her from the shop. 

“Did you see that girl? Her hair was… was her hair made from fire?” Hermione asked, falling into step beside the older girl. 

“Ahh, yeah its gotta be one of those new hair potions. It’s a charm really, makes your hair look like the elements. Beclass Lynnch made them. She has a salon somewhere nearby I think. It's rather pricey though.” 

“Really? I’ve never heard of a wizarding salon before. There are plenty of famous muggle ones that I’ve heard of.” 

“Tell me about them! Wanna go to the Small Toad? I’m starving.” Verity linked her arm into Hermione’s. “Or do you want to try something else?” The small Toad was a small restaurant just on the other side of the Leaky Cauldron.

“Sure?” 

“You seem on edge, what's going on? Is everything alright?” Verity looked over at Hermione as they walked through the Leaky and into the muggle world. 

“Yes, I’m alright, it's just that… It’s just that I thought that you didn’t like me much. I figured that you had a crush on George, and saw me as trouble or as possible competition.” 

Verity laughed loudly. “Oh no! I like you just fine! I always thought you didn’t like me!” 

“I don’t dislike you at all!” 

They had been walking for 20 minutes and Hermione was very hungry. Judging by the loud gurgling that was coming from Verity’s torso, she was just as hungry as Hermione was. 

“Ah, we’re here.” Verity let go of Hermione's arm and grabbed her by the hand to pull her quickly to the front of the restaurant. Hermione and Verity pushed their way into the door and found an empty table to sit down in. The booth they found was cozy and had very comfortable bench seats.

“So, what should we get?” Verity was smiling at Hermione from across the table. “Fancy a Roy Rogers?” 

“That sounds nice. Should we get some scotch eggs? To share I mean.” 

“Ah yes, that sounds dead lovely.” Verity pushed herself up from the table, returning only moments later with two glasses of cold cola.” 

“I think I will get a bacon sandwich. I’ve been craving one for days.” Hermione said reviewing one of the menus that had been sitting in the center of their table 

“Oh yes, or Yorkshire Pudding. And I could do with some crumpets as well. Bangers and mash? No. Steak and kidney pie? Maybe some cornish pasty... ” 

Hermione giggled. “You sound so incredibly British. All you're missing is some tea.” As soon as she had said it, a waiter came to their table bringing two cups, a hot kettle, some milk, and a selection of tea. 

The two girls broke out into a fit of giggles as soon as their waiter walked away. 

“Did you really think I fancied George?” Verity asked. “I mean, he’s very handsome, but…” she looked at Hermione. “He’s not exactly my type.” 

“I did. I mean you’ve worked together for a while and you’re so beautiful. He's very handsome, just like Fred. It would make sense if you were drawn to them. George would probably jump at the chance to be with you.” Hermione rifled through the small collection of tea looking for some Earl Grey. Even though George hated it and teased her for drinking it, Earl Grey was her favorite.

Verity blushed. “You think I’m beautiful? That’s so sweet! You’re the pretty one though. You’ve got it all. The whole banana, as the muggles say, right?”

“The whole enchilada.”

“Ahh, that’s right, enchiladas. Merlin, I love Mexican food. But yeah, you’re smart, and nice, and fit. You have a good work ethic, and you helped save the world. That's a pretty big thing.” Verity paused as the waiter came back. 

“What are you lovely ladies having today? The Usual I presume?” He asked looking at Verity. She rolled her eyes. Hermione saw that the name on his shirt read, ‘Joseph’.

“Well Joseph,” Verity said, reaching up and tapping on his name with her index finger. “I’ll have Yorkshire Pudding, some crumpets, some chips, and can you also bring some scotch eggs? And some HP sauce?” Verity read from the menu. “Can I also get a milkshake? I don’t care what flavor. Surprise me. Just not chocolate. Mione, what are you having?” 

“Two bacon sandwiches, please. A side of chips, and can I have a cheeseburger too, please. Boxed.” 

Joseph was frantically scribbling the order down on his pad and trying to keep Verity from snagging the pens that were clipped to his apron pocket. “What would you like on your cheeseburger miss? Stop it right now. Why do you always do this.” They had ordered so much food, and the waiter was looking at them as though he didn’t believe that they couldn't possibly eat it all.

“Mayonnaise, ketchup, tomato, pickles, onions, cheese, and can you add some bacon to that as well?” She ticked off the items on her fingers as she spoke. As soon as Joseph the waiter left muttering something about American food trends, Hermione looked to Verity and found that she was staring at her. 

“Hungry are we?” She was tending to her tea and adding cream to the glass. “Joseph is my cousin. More like a brother really. He’s a wizard too. Almost got expelled from Hogwarts once. Enchanted Mrs. Norris. Every time she meowed it made a sound like a tuba. That old coot of a caretaker so mad. Joe had detentions for a solid month.”

“Really?! That’s kind of mean isn't it? As for the cheeseburger, it’s for George,” Hermione said. Despite her impulse to defend the cat, she couldn’t help but chuckle. “Thank you for what you said earlier. But honestly, you’re so much prettier than I am. Your hair is like black silk, your makeup is always perfect and you dress like some sort of rockstar. You could be a model if you wanted. And I’d kill for a figure like yours. I bet the twins were wild about you.” It was true. Verity was a very pretty girl. She was of average height, but her skin was pale, and her short black hair barely brushed her shoulders. Even the way she dressed was cool. Today she was wearing blue plaid pants with zippers haphazardly sewn onto the legs, and a black turtleneck sweater. The sleeves were too long and she let them cover part of her hands. Hermione did this too even though Mrs.Weasley was always begging her to let her hem them. 

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t… I don’t exactly pay attention to boys all that much.” 

“Well, that’s smart. They’re nothing but trouble.”

“You see,” Verity said, taking a sip from her tea, “I more so fancy girls.” She looked unsure. As if Hermione would run away once she had heard. “Boys are alright, and I do like them as well I think, but… please don’t think I’ve invited you here to flirt or to make a pass at you. I truly just want to be friends.”

“I don’t think you were doing that at all. But, there’s nothing wrong with avoiding men. To be completely honest, there have been a few times I have wondered if I might fancy girls as well. But I don’t think so. At least not properly fancy them.” 

“I think that’s pretty common. Ah, my crumpets!” Their waiter was back with Verity’s crumpets and a plate full of chips. She immediately grabbed one of each and took a bite. 

It was only now sinking in that they were in a muggle restaurant. Hermione always had some muggle currency with her as she never knew when she’d need some, but was unsure of how Verity came to know of this place? She assumed that Verity would also have some muggle money too. 

“So, how did you come across a muggle restaurant?” Hermione asked, snagging a crumpet from Verity’s plate and putting some golden syrup on it. “Was it an accident, or did you look for it?”

“Oh, I’m a half-blood. I came here with mum and dad before getting my things for my first year at Hogwarts. I like to come here every so often now. Especially on my way home from work. I miss them. Plus,” she added. “Joe works here. He’ll give us a discount too.” 

“Ah! I’m muggle-born. Hermione exclaimed excitedly, not caring about who heard her. “You said that you miss your parents. Do you Not see them often?” Hermione ignored the knot in her stomach. It had been a very long time since she had gotten to see her parents, and she didn’t want to think of all of the places that they used to visit as a family. 

“They live in Ireland, so I don’t see them often.” She looked sad, but only for a second. “Really? That’s so cool. You should come over to my flat sometime. On one of our days off maybe. We can watch tv and have a magic-free, muggle kind of day. You know, we’ll get pizza, paint each other’s nails, try on a bunch of clothes… it will be fun!” 

“Or the whole enchiladas!” Laughed Hermione. “Yes, lets!” 

“You can tell me all about George. I’m dying to know everything. I don’t have many friends to hang out with, especially girls, and I’ve always wanted to have a real sleepover.” Verity took a bite of her scotch egg and dipped into a puddle of HP sauce that she had poured onto her plate. 

“I’ve never been to one,” Hermione said sheepishly. “I’ve always wanted to though.” Just then, the waiter appeared at their table with their lunch and a boxed burger for George. 

“This looks delightful. Thank you!” Hermione smiled at the waiter and put her napkin in her lap. Verity was already tucking into her lunch. Her eyes rolled back in her head and let out a string of satisfied sounds that one only makes when eating a good meal. 

“So tell me about yourself, Mione.” Verity was doing a little dance in her seat. It was the same one that she herself did, and she had seen Ginny and Fluer do it as well. Harry and Ron called it the food dance. They only did it when they were really hungry and then finally got food. The dance was often a signal that they were in good spirits. As soon as Hermione took a bite of her bacon sammie, she joined Verity in the little food shuffle. 

“What do you want to know?” 

“Amphyfing.” Verity had taken a bite of one of Hermione’s bacon sandwiches and was piling some pudding on to her plate in payment. 

“Well, I’m a Virgo and I love to read. I’m very bad at anything athletic. When I was little I loved Doctor Who. Cats are my favorite animal. I love Taco Bell and sometimes when I’m alone I like to dance in my underwear and Georges shirts.” 

“No shit?” Verity took a big swig of her cola and fished a cherry out from the bottom. “I’m a Virgo too. I was born on September 19th. As for sports, they are all fascist and I refuse to support them. Magical or muggle.” 

“That’s my birthday too!” Hermione shifted and crossed her legs under the table. 

“That’s wild! I like Sabrina the Teenage Witch. It’s an American show. Cats are the best. When I get older, I want to adopt disabled and senior cats. Give them a good life and show them all the love they deserve. And honestly, I do that too. Dance around the house and pretend that I'm in a movie or something. In my own shirts though.” 

After about an hour, the girls were making their way back through Diagon Alley. They had spent the whole meal talking about everything under the sun. 

“Let’s do this again!” Verity said, pushing open the door to the shop. “I’ll send you an owl with info and we can talk about our sleepover if you’d like.” 

“Sounds like a plan! I better get this to George, he's probably starving by now.” Hermione said weaving between customers, careful to not jiggle the box too much. 

She found him up by the display of trick wands, making a sale. “I have your lunch.” She said handing him the box. “Here, go to the office and eat. I’ll take over for now.”

George took the box from her hand and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead as he swept off to his office. When Hermione looked at the counter, Verity gave her a double thumbs-up, and then finger guns. She smiled and began to work, wrapping more packages and counting money. 

The day went by quickly after that. Customers were eager to make purchases, and happily emptied their pockets for pygmy puffs, decoy detonators, and sweets. Verity and Hermione didn’t have much of a chance to talk again before the store closed for the night. 

When the last customer, an older woman who had purchased some fireworks for her grandson, had left. They locked the doors and began cleaning. As soon as they started to sweep the floor, George came out of his office, shirt disheveled and untucked. Hermione noticed that the buttons were done incorrectly. She felt her stomach drop and she knew Verity had seen her face. 

“Sorry ladies, I was busy, uh, working on something.” He walked to the counter and began counting to money in the till. 

Verity looked at Hermione and then back at George and narrowed her eyes. “Were you now? We never would have guessed. Why do you look like you've just had an afternoon tryst when your lovely girlfriend has been out here with me working in your store.” 

Hermione tried to hide her smile as her hair fell in a bushy curtain over her face. She kept sweeping and tidying the shelves as though she hadn’t heard. 

“A tryst? Me? My sweet Verity, who do you think I am? I am but a one-woman man.” George covered his heart and stumbled backward, feigning shock and outrage. “And that one woman is Hermione Jean Granger.”

“Better be,” Verity replied, eyes still narrowed. 

“I had no idea you two were so close.” 

“Close? We’re actually married. We’ve only just returned from our honeymoon in the Bahamas, you see. We are so close. The closest anyone has been. EVER. Long lost sister soulmate twin flames.” Verity said, rolling her eyes. “We are friends. We had lunch together today. It was great. Just because we’ve only been officially friends for seven hours doesn’t mean shit.” 

“Okay okay you two, stop.” Hemione walked to the front of the shop and with a wave of her wand, the brooms began sweeping by themselves, and the shop cleaned itself before their eyes. 

“Hermione love, I am going to go upstairs. Come up when you are ready.” And with that, George flicked a small ball of paper at Verity and made his way up to the flat. Verity rolled her eyes flipped George the bird with both hands. She waved her arms around wildly and kicked the air. George turned around and Verity snapped around and began to whistle like she hadn’t been doing anything at all. 

“I saw that V.” 

“You saw nothing Georgeypoo.” 

“Ugh. Don’t call me that. Go Home already. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He smiled and made a shooing motion with his hands. 

“Alright alright, I’m going.” Before she walked to the door, Verity headed over to Hermione. 

“Do you have a cell phone? You could text me and we could plan our sleepover.” 

“No,” Hermione said, “I don’t know if one would work here. It’s too magical, isn’t it?” 

“Nope! That is the case at Hogwarts, but not here. Mine works just fine. Plus, there is electricity in the shops.” Verity pulled what looked like a silver egg out and flipped it open. There was a small screen and keypad. She looked at the screen and closed the phone and slid it back into her pants pocket. “Okay. This is what's going to happen. You are going to come to lunch with me tomorrow and we are going to get a phone for you. There is a phone store near the Taco Bell. I’ll even help you pay for it! I have a second job at the mall, so I have some muggle money saved up. You can just pay me back in our regular currency.” 

“Oh no, you don't have to do that,” Hermione said, trying not to wonder whether or not Verity was playing some sort of trick or not. She seemed genuine though. 

“Come on, that’s what friends do!” And with that Verity hugged Hermione and turned to run out the door. “It’s nearly dark. I’ve got to go. I hate apperating, so I’ve gotta jet. See ya!” 

As soon as the lights were out and Hermione was sure that everything was in order, she apparated upstairs. She was too tired to trudge up the stairs, and she liked to apperate every once in a while just to remind herself that she could. 

When she popped into the flat, George was laying on the couch, shirt unbuttoned and in his boxers. He was eating some of the leftover crumpets that Verity had shoved into her to-go box. 

“Hello!” She said, coming into the living room and grabbing ahold of George’s hand. “Come on. Let’s eat in bed. I have so much to tell you about!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed my work! If you want to stay up to date, feel free to bookmark this story so you never miss a chapter!


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